Ses Démons Intimes
by For You Blue
Summary: A story from the perspective of the Prince Adam, better known as the Beast or Beast Prince, it begins from when he loses his family and travels through his transformation, when he encounters Belle and beyond. *Chapter Nine has been posted.*
1. 1778

**Ses démons intimes (His innermost demons.)**

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**Summary**:

A story from the perspective of the Prince Adam, better known as the Beast or Beast Prince, it begins from when he loses his family and travels through his transformation and when he encounters Belle and beyond.

Please let me know what you think and leave a review. Thank-you and enjoy.

**Settings**:

The village and castle I've set in Gascogne, why? Disney give you a few clues as to the real life location they based the kingdom/dukedom upon:

**One**: Check out the wiki article on Gascony (Gascogne in French), and also check out Google images, the pictures of the scenery alone, including the mountains and hills and pretty simple villages, are near identical to what we see in the movie.

**Two**: It's close to Spain and England, famed for its cuisine and far enough from Paris for it to be of little interest. (Particularly since BatB seems to be set either during, or soon after, the French Revolution, there would be very little care from the villagers in why their Prince, left alone after the death of his family, had suddenly disappeared.) And it is very provincial.

**Three**: Gaston means "from Gascony/Gascogne." He's lived in the village his whole life, it's a great give away!

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_**Disclaimer**__: I do not own Disney's version of Beauty and the Beast, it and all the characters belongs to the Disney company. I can only lay claim to my OC character names._

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**Chapter One.**

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_Paris, Avenue Champs-Élysées , 1778_

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**A**dam? Adam? Mon fils à moi?" A beautiful, worried woman called across the fashionable café, furnished with fine white table and chairs matched with pale yellow walls dotted with elegant paintings and fixtures. Her curled, grey wig became slightly askew as she pushed her wide, embroidered silk gown past a dining couple, who blinked at the elegant woman, obviously of nobility, running around and calling out for her missing son.

Princess Aurélie-Corinne of Gascogne, smiled apologetically at a larger woman, whom the worried mother had nearly knocked off her chair in her haste to find her only son, "I am sorry, please excuse me madame," she inclined her head, gazing out across the busy café, "Adam?"

A white tablecloth of a table in the far corner lifted up slightly. A pair of large, amazingly blue eyes peered out from underneath the sunlit cloth, the look on the face owner of the blue eyes was one of cheekiness, a natural expression for the spoilt, eight-year-old boy.

"Do not worry, your highness! I will find the young Prince!" A male voice called out.

The boy hiding under the table scowled as he recognised the voice as belonging to Lumière.

The tall, elegant, erstwhile maître d' was a beloved companion and friend of the Prince and Princess of Gascogne. Lumière usually travelled with the royal family whenever the young Prince and Princess accompanied them.

Ordinarily Mrs Angela Potts, the English nanny, would also accompany the Gascogne royals in order to mind Prince Adam. But the plump English woman had just produce another baby to add to her already large brood of seven.

Angela's husband, Mr Jack Potts the carriage driver, had travelled with the Gascogne royal family to Paris; doing so only moments after he had seen and helped name the baby girl.

Prince Adam folded his arms in a huff. His Maman, (his mother,) his older sister and himself were going home early with Lumière. While his Père, (his father,) Prince Christophe, stayed in Paris on business.

Adam adored his father and saw him so little. It wasn't fair.

Pulling on the blue ribbon tying back his red-blond hair in a ponytail, Adam screwed up his handsome, almost perfect statue-like, features in an effort to stop his tears of frustration.

_I will not cry,_ Adam thought determinedly. _I am a noble Frenchman. A Prince, a Great-nephew of the King of France_...

A pair of large shoes became visible under the Prince's gaze, then the table cloth lifted up to reveal the large nosed, kindly features of slender Lumière.

"Pourquoi bonjour your highness," the maître d' smiled widely.

Adam crept back further into his hiding place. "I shan't come out Lumière, no, no, no," the boy snapped in response, kicking out with his elegantly shod feet as Lumière knelt down to his level and stuck his head under the table; the tall man crawled forward after the boy.

"Oh, come now be reasonable your highness. Your Père and Maman are waiting with your sister to take you back to the palace to pack for home, do you not wish to go home your highness?" Lumière went to grab the boy, who was furiously shaking his head as he kicked out again.

"No, no," the boy complained, the maître d' bumped his head on the underneath of the table as he dodged the kicks from the green, satin breach-clad legs of the young Prince who was trying to clamber away.

But Lumière was quicker then Adam gave him credit for, and he snatched up the boy around the waist, putting the kicking boy under one arm as he crawled out from under the table.

Standing up he placed Adam on the ground and pushed a strand of his awry red hair back in its pony-tail. The maître d' then placed his discarded hat back onto his brown haired head, and then Lumière turned the young Prince around to face his mother and father.

Prince Christophe had his mouth set in a serious line, his hands on top of his walking stick. His handsome, elegant French features, framed his large, light brown eyes which held a look of dismay as he gazed upon his dishevelled looking son.

Princess Aurélie-Corinne stood beside her husband, holding the hand of a tall teenage girl, just turned sixteen and dressed in a gown of pink; who was looking at her younger brother with a devoted expression of sympathy and love.

"What is the meaning of this mon fils?" Christophe's soft spoken voice was full of stern, but kind, reprimanding.

Adam chewed on his lower lip, looking down at the floor. "I did not want to leave, Père," he said softly. His Père sighed and knelt down to his son's level, brushing back a lock of the wavy red-blond hair from Adam's forehead. "I...I wanted to stay here with you."

Prince Christophe patted his son's head. "Oh mon cher fils, my dear son, then who would look after the Castle while I was away? You will be Prince of Gascogne one day, and Cogsworth and Lumière have so much to teach you in my absence," he stood up.

"But you must learn to accept these things, such as my staying in Paris while you must go home with your mother and sister, with much more dignity and refinement as befits your nobility, you are not a pig-boy mon fils. Lumière?"

The maître d', (his attention stolen for a moment by a gaggle of young women with their fans in front of their faces as they watched the scene the Gascogne nobles were staging,) stood to attention at his Master's tone. "Oui, your highness?"

"We will be taking the carriage back to Tuileries, you, however, will be escorting Prince Adam back to the palace on foot." Christophe looked down at Adam, who looked put-out. "This will give him a chance to think on what he has done; can I rely on you in this good Lumière?" The Prince of Gascogne inquired of his friend and maître d'.

Lumière inclined his head then bowed. "You can rely on me Master," the slender man looked over at Adam, who was all but glaring at him. "I will see Prince Adam safely to the palace," he smiled at the boy Prince; who in turn looked back down at his shoes, Adam turning his intent glare onto his silver buckles instead.

"Very well then, it is done," Christophe took his wife's arm in his own. Aurélie looked back at her son with a worried expression, and Christine kept glancing over her shoulder as her chastised brother and the slender maître d' followed them out of the café.

The gilded, covered carriage, (crafted of the finest of materials,) glittered in the summer sun as it rested on the corner of the Avenue Champs-Élysées, just in front of the café. The two delicate, dappled-grey horses leading the elegant transport, were obliviously eating from feed-bags.

Standing nearby, (already mounted on his huge, black charger,) was Capitaine Edgard Amable, Captain of the Gascogne guard. His deep-set dark eyes lifted to watch Princess Christine with a heart-breaking expression of devotion, and quickly dismounted from his horse to bow to the family.

Mr Potts, the driver, immediately hopped down from his seat to remove the bags from the horses noses; tipping his hat to the Gascogne family respectfully as he first opened up the carriage door. As soon as the feed-bags were put away under the carriage, Mr Potts then moved to help the distraught Aurélie into the carriage.

Christine took this opportunity to break free from her mother's hand and she reached into the carriage to grab a small tri-cornered hat, and rushed back over to Adam. Christine's red hair falling out from her wig, as she all but threw herself at her younger brother, and hugged him tightly against her much taller form.

"Je vous aime, I love you," the girl planted a kiss on Adam's cheek and placed her brother's hat firmly onto his head.

Prince Adam held his sister close, before their father gently pulled his blue-eyed son and daughter apart and led Christine into the carriage to sit beside her mother.

The button and embellishments on the ruling Prince of Gascogne's long, blue satin coat glittered in the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, with his elegant, powdered white wig and over six-foot height, Christophe was an amazing sight.

Something not lost on his son, who wanted to throw his arms around his beloved father, but bravely stood back with Lumière, chewing on his lower lip as Christophe entered the carriage and sat down opposite his wife and daughter, leaning out of the window to say his farewell.

"We will see you back at Tuileries, adieu good Lumière, and Adam," Prince Christophe addressed his scowling youngest child. "Listen to Lumière and try to learn to control your temper in the future my son," he tapped the side of the carriage with his walking stick. "Onwards Mr Potts."

Mr Potts tipped his tri-cornered hat at Prince Adam, a friendly smile across his broad, fair features, then flicked the reigns. The pretty horses snorted and tossed their manes as they set off along the cobbled street.

Capitaine Amable remounted his black horse and trotted over to Lumière and the young prince. "Do not worry your highness, Lumière will take good care of you," the handsome Captain smiled and Prince Adam actually smiled in return.

The dashing Captain was the only person the young prince actually tolerated outside of his family. Mostly because Edgard taught him horsemanship, swordplay and told Adam stories about his father's bravery in battles fought in Iroquois and Algonquins.

The Captain jarred his horse and went cantering after the Gascogne's carriage, Adam watched expressionlessly as the party of his family disappeared down the avenue, his handsome features slipped back into their customary scowling and he folded his arms.

Lumière rubbed his hands together. "Well then young Master, let us set off at once," he said resolutely, turning on his heal and walking in the opposite direction the carriage had departed in.

Adam pointed to the disappearing carriage down the avenue. "Lumière, it is that way to the palace," the boy pointed out loudly, stomping his right foot.

Lumière stopped a few feet into his walk and looked back over his shoulder at the sulky prince. "Oui young Master, but this is another way, come," he smiled as the prince raised a cynical eyebrow.

"Oh come now, Prince Adam, do you not trust me your highness?" Lumière half bowed and removed his hat, looking up at the red-haired boy and offering a wink of encouragement.

Adam rolled his large blue eyes and walked up to the maître d', "fine," he accepted, not seeing why everyone else was so charmed by the flamboyant servant. (The young Prince had always found Lumière very annoying and, very oddly, incessantly cheerful.)

"You are sure we will arrive at Tuileries by this route instead, Lumière?"

"But of course young Master. I lived in Paris until I was fifteen and entered your household service seventeen years ago," Lumière assured Adam as they began to walk along the avenue, the Prince tugged on his black hat and looked up at his family servant. "Oui it is true, this is the nicest way to walk to Tuileries. The most beautiful parks and the most beautiful houses line..."

Adam kicked the footpath in disinterest. "Bah! Who cares about a lot of stupid trees and houses," he commented rudely.

The brown haired maître d' raised his eyebrows, but smiled benignly at the boy as they turned into the entrance to a park.

"Oh but young Master, one must learn to appreciate the beauty of places he visits, and Paris is a city most unlike any other. Paris is a city of power, beauty and romance." As he said this, Lumière picked a rose from a bush and offered it to a simple peasant girl walking past them with a load of laundry.

The girl giggled as she accepted the red flower. "Merci Monsieur."

The maître d' bowed and the pretty, curvy girl inclined her head in response, holding the rose under her nose as she walked away. Lumière looked back at the prince to see Adam's reaction, which was revealed to be the boy wearing a revolted look all over his youthful features.

"Brut, disgusting," Adam put his nose in the air and continued walking down the path, followed diligently by his companion. "Girls are nothing but trouble! Except for Maman and Christine, and as for those silly maids you chase around the castle..."

_Bon Dieu_, Lumière thought to himself, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. _For all Adam's hatred of books and learning he certainly speaks like someone at least twice his age, he doesn't miss anything_.

"Now I'm quite sure I know not of what you talk of young Master—ah." Lumière interrupted himself and pointed over at a statue. "Very interesting. You do know whom this is, do you not your highness...?"

But the young prince, (bored with the chatter of his family's servant,) had become distracted when he had looked across the path, and saw a little girl sitting on a stone bench beside a fountain. The girl's tiny nose was stuck behind a red bound, worn book that looked remarkably thick for a girl of about six, (Adam guessed her age, as he approached the girl.)

The little mademoiselle had her brown hair in a simple ponytail, tied back with a white ribbon, she caught Adam's gaze and stared at the well dressed boy. Immediately she got to her tiny feet to curtsey neatly, holding her book with her left while holding the edges of her brown skirt and white apron with the other.

"Bonjour Monsieur," the girl said politely and clearly.

Adam studied the girl with a frown as she sat back down. "Bonjour. What is a girl like you reading such a thick book, and a book not being of Holy Scripture, all together?" The Prince said curiously.

As far as the young prince was told, it was usually only noblewomen that would have a full education. Peasant girls might learn a little reading, mostly to just read the Bible.

The girl looked offended and went back to her book.

"Are you not going to answer me?" Adam demanded.

The girl's light brown eyes peered over the top of her book."Monsieur, a girl may read any book if she pleases. Just as I'm sure you do if you please," she said primly.

Adam snorted, he did not like this girl and her haughty manners, "I don't please. I hate books," he replied just as prudishly. The brown haired mademoiselle pulled back up her book.

"Then we have nothing further to talk about. I will sit here and wait for my father, and you can go back to not reading your books. Adieu good Monsieur," the girl farewelled, waving her little white hand.

Adam looked furious and was about to take the little girl's book and throw it into the fountain, but Lumière appeared suddenly at his side and grabbed his arm.

"Come along young Master, do not disturb the mademoiselle as she is reading," Lumière chastised his charge, the boy glared up at him as he was pulled away.

"But she was being rude to me," Adam said, pulling his arm away from the maître d', rubbing it with rueful scowl as he looked back at the girl; who had lowered her book slightly to look interestedly at the noble boy and his servant arguing.

Although it appeared pretty one-sided as the tall man shook his head.

"As you were being to her, young Master. Mon Dieu! You must learn to be more gentle with the young ladies," Lumière smiled in amusement.

Adam scowled further as he noticed the girl watching the display and pointed over at her. "But she..." he snorted as the girl quickly pulled back up her book. "Fine! Come along Lumière," the boy marched ahead down the path.

Lumière faithfully tailing behind Adam, his hands clasped behind and resting in the small of his back.

The girl shook her head as she lowered her thick book, looking beyond the oak tree, (casting shadows in the sunlight across her pretty face,) up at the little blue tits sitting on the middle branches; chirping and warbling in the late afternoon spring sunlight.

"Fancy not liking to read and being rich enough to afford any book he likes! It isn't fair. Boys," the young Belle said to herself, turning a page in her book.

"They can be perfectly beastly."

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_Paris, Tuileries Palace_

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There was a grave sense of foreboding, as Lumière escorted Adam across the carved stone bridge that led towards the entrance of the Tuileries Palace, that the maître d' couldn't seem to shake off. Lumière's brown eyes narrowed in worry as he gazed across at the young Prince Adam.

The boy seemed to be also picking up on the same vibes, wearing a scowl even deeper than usual on his serious features.

Confirming the worried Lumière's fears, as they approached the massive iron gates a Musketeer was conversing animatedly with two Maréchaussée (police officers.)

The Musketeer's face turned into instant surprise and dismay and he rushed back in through the gates.

There was a loud sound of trumpets and the loud rhythmic sound of pounding horseshoes on cobblestones, a fleet of blue clad Musketeers went galloping past in a mad rush. Lumière pulled back Adam so he wouldn't be trampled in the fray.

As soon as the Musketeers had passed the maître d' rushed over, (grabbing hold of the confused young prince's hand so to have him close by,) to where the Maréchaussée were still standing beside their horses.

"Messieurs," Lumière addressed the two men. "I am the guardian of Prince Adam of Gascogne here. What has happened prey tell?"

The taller of the two Maréchaussée, with fair blond hair, rubbed his mouth in alarm, "Prince Adam of Gascogne? Mon Dieu." Both he and his companion removed their hats and bowed deeply to Adam, before turning back to Lumière, "you'd had better take the young prince inside, this news we bear is of the gravest matter Monsieur. You might wish to be seated..."

Adam's eyes widened as he noticed the expression of panic on the face of his family's tall servant, who clutched his chest. "What do you mean grave news? What has happened?" The prince demanded.

The smaller, dark haired Maréchaussée smiled sympathetically, his face full of pitying kindness for the small boy, glaring up at them with worry and confusion glittering in his large blue eyes.

"Your highness please allow us to escort you inside sir," the Maréchaussée motioned ahead of them; and Adam, at a loss, looked up to Lumière for guidance. The solemn maître d' inclined his head and the young Prince exhaled defeatedly, allowing the policemen to escort him inside.

Once inside the grounds, they walked into the gardens and encouraged Prince Adam to sit down; then the Maréchaussée whispered to Lumière to stay close to his young Master. Once the boy was seated on the stone bench, the tallest Maréchaussée grasped his hat in both hands and placed it in front of himself, as he noisily cleared his throat.

"Your highness, there has been a most grievous occurrence," the man swallowed and cleared his throat again. "Your family's carriage was attacked and taken over by two masked bandits armed with muskets and swords, according to the witnesses. They first attacked your Captain of the Guard and he is wounded badly.

"The townsfolk alerted us and we gave chase through the streets...but we lost sight of the carriage once we reached the city gates, and came here to alert the Musketeers."

Adam's features remained expressionless, but Lumière, whom had known his young Master since the day he was born, knew that it was the prince's way when he was panicked or deeply tormented inside to outwardly appear emotionless. "I see..."

The dark haired Maréchaussée interceded, "do not worry, your highness, the Musketeers will soon bring news," he tried to reassure the boy prince. Adam just continued to stare straight ahead at nothing.

The policemen put their hats back on their heads."Very well. Good-day then your highness." They both bowed to Adam, then nodded politely to Lumière as they walked back down the garden path to the exit.

The Prince continued to stare ahead, and his servant wrung his hands in worry, but forced a shaky smile for his young charge.

"Do not despair, your highness, there still is hope," Lumière comforted Adam, the boy continued to look straight ahead. The maître d' rubbed the back of his neck then rushed over to kneel in front of the prince. "Please Prince Adam, you must be strong young Master."

To Lumière great surprise, Adam let out a choking sob and threw his arms around his family servant's neck, sobbing into his satin covered shoulder furiously. Lumière hesitantly put his right arm around the boy, and patted his back gently.

The boy shook his head as his body continued to rack with sobs. "What will I do without them, Lumière? I'm too young to rule a kingdom alone, I want my Maman, I want my Père, I want Christine!" Adam howled.

The kindly maître d' continued to hold the eight-year-old boy close. Letting him cry until all tears were spent and the Queen of France, alerted by the guards, sent some of her ladies-in-waiting to attend the boy and bring him to her chambers.

Lumière followed dutifully, his eyes red rimmed with un-shed tears as he picked up and carried his sobbing young Master into the palace.

After entering the Queen's chambers, Lumière placed Adam down on a blue velvet couch. The boy was exhausted from crying and the ladies-in-waiting knelt on the floor beside the collapsed Prince.

The Queen herself later entered the sitting room, and sat beside her great-nephew on the couch, she wiped his tears with a lacy handkerchief, her and her ladies speaking soothing words.

Lumière stood nearby, his hands clasped behind his back as two hours passed and Adam had long ago fallen into a hiccuping mess and then a fitful sleep. The Queen left, leaving two ladies behind, who sat patiently in nearby chairs with their embroidery.

The maître d' didn't shift from his post, he loved his Master and the entire Gascogne family, it hurt to think of never seeing the Prince and Princess and their daughter again, leaving Adam alone. For underneath all the young Prince Adam's surliness and brooding, Lumière knew how sensitive the boy was, and how much he loved his family.

At around nine o'clock in the evening, their came a loud hammering at the door, followed by two stern voice and a loud, desperate voice that overtook their pleadings. The ladies-in-waiting jumped behind the startled Lumière.

"Sir please, the young Prince must not be..."

"I must see his highness Prince Adam at once!" The roaring voice was familiar to Lumière, and the maître d' shook off the hold of the ladies-in-waiting and rushed over to the doors to open them. Peering out over the stubborn Swiss guards crossed halberds, he saw the desperate, tanned face of Capitaine Amable.

The Capitaine's dark hair was loose and hung mid-way down his back, he was in a simple shirt that was untied and opened up down his chest. His left arm was in a sling and bandaged all the way up and across to his right, indicating a broken collarbone and most likely a musket shot wound.

Edgard looked back at Lumière with a stubborn, defiant look.

"Capitaine Amable, please let him pass men," Lumière ordered. The Swiss guards looked over their shoulders and inclined their heads, uncrossing their halberds and trying to ignore the glare the bearded Captain gave them.

Amable pushed Lumière aside, and rushed to where the sleeping Prince Adam was reclining, it was then that Lumière noticed the tears rolling down the Capitaine's face.

Edgard shook Adam awake before anyone in the room could stop him.

The still hazy from crying boy, could barely focus on the tearful features of his family's Captain of the guard.

"Your highness, I tried...I tried so hard to keep your parents and sweet Princess Christine safe from those men...even good Mr Potts was killed...I'm so sorry! Please forgive me! In the name of your sister whom I hold so dear, forgive me please!" He grasped Adam's hands pleadingly.

The boy looked stunned at the ramblings of the upset Edgard. Adam opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

The young Captain withdrew his hands from grasping the young Prince's, and raised them instead to his own face, weeping sadly and whispering Christine's name like a plea or prayer.

Lumière had suspected flirting between the Princess and the Capitaine; but the heartbroken figure kneeling on the floor of the Queen's chambers, suggested that it had been much more then innocent flirting and games.

Poor Adam was distressed enough from the current events without this as well.

At that moment a Musketeer burst through the doors, his hat awry and he looked like he'd run thousands of miles to get to them right away. "Prince Adam," he gave a quick bow at the boy Prince.

"Your highness, we have recovered your father but he is wounded very badly, he is asking for you. He said for you to bring Monsieur Lumière as well."

Lumière helped the stony faced Adam to his stocking covered feet and helped him into his buckled shoes. The young prince straightened his back so he was at his full height and allowed the Musketeer to lead him out the door.

As Adam left, Lumière grabbed his coat and slipped it on. "Keep an eye on Capitaine Amable," he ordered the ladies-in-waiting as he walked out the door, wringing his hands in worry.

-xxx-

The first thing Adam saw, as they walked towards the infirmary down the elaborate halls of Tuileries, were many chamber maids carrying pots of bandages covered in blood, they walked past the wide-eyed boy as swiftly as possible.

But the damage had already been done and the young Prince felt dizzy and felt the bile rise to his throat at the sight. Immediately Lumière put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Be brave young Master," he whispered, steering the red-haired boy towards the open doors of the infirmary, where the loud cries of pain and the muffled voices of the royal physicians could be heard. However the muffled voices almost all stopped once the young Prince entered the room.

Adam's senses were hit immediately by the stench of blood and other bodily fluids, combined with strong smelling pain alleviators, (comprising of alcohol, belladonna, laudanum and henbane.)

The physicians, who were not busy tending to the wounded Prince of Gascogne, offered a polite nod of the head to Adam, before going back to their various tasks.

Prince Adam swallowed hard, and took a couple of hesitant steps forward. One of the main physicians tending Christophe looked up, and motioned to another physician to stand in for him as he marched over to the small party who had just entered, his wrinkled features set in a grim line.

"It is good you are here now, another few minutes and it would have been too late. Come Prince Adam, your father needs your strength," the richly dressed man's robes were covered in blood, and the young Prince wanted to run away and hide somewhere out of fear.

But he had no time to act on these thoughts, Lumière knew that if the head physician said the end was near then Christophe must be in a very grave way, and must say his last words to his only son. So the maître d' gently pushed the boy forward, and kept close behind Adam just in case.

Adam looked hesitantly down at his prone father, there was blood everywhere and his Père's fine silk shirt had been torn open, in order to get to the most serious of the deep, terrible wounds on Christophe's torso; which were constantly being tended too by the physicians.

The Prince of Gascogne was breathing hard and in frequent bursts, his brown eyes were lifted to the ceiling, he was pale and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. Christophe's fine wig was gone, and his shoulder-length, dark blond hair was untied and splayed out over the pillows, (that were used to raise him into a seated position.)

"Père!" Adam cried out suddenly, grabbing Christophe's arm. "Père!" He began to shake his father's arm, tears rolling down his face. His father turned his head at the sound of his son's voice and almost smiled, lifting his hand to rest on the side of Adam's wet face.

"Shh, shh my son," Christophe took a struggled breath in, then lowered his hand to grasp Adam's. "You are my heir, the Prince du Sang of Gascogne. Gascogne and its lands are—" he coughed. "Are yours alone. It is my legacy to you and your heirs," Christophe looked over at his maître d'.

"Lumière, good friend...the chevalière on my left hand. I have not the strength and it isn't right for my son—"

"My Master, say no more. Conserve your strength your highness," Lumière interceded gently, walking across and taking Christophe's left hand from the weeping Adam. The maître d' gently pulled the chevalière (signet ring) with the French coat of arms from Christophe's little finger.

Lumière took Adam's hand and place the large ring on his little finger. It was far too big for the young boy. But later he could place it on his index finger till it fitted his little finger.

The boy pulled his hand away from his family servant and grabbed his father's arm. "You can't die Père, you're not allowed too! I won't let you...!"

Christophe rested his hand on the top of his son's head. "Oh my child, my only son. I wanted to help you on your way to manhood, to teach you everything about ruling, but I have to leave you—" he breathed in hard.

"I know not the fate of your mother and sister; but I pray if they have passed on they will be there to greet me in heaven," the dying Prince brushed his hand across Adam's face. "I'll be waiting for you Adam when your own time comes, I want to see the good man—" he coughed and blood trickled down his lip.

Lumière took out his handkerchief and dabbed the blood away from his master's lips.

Christophe weakly nodded his thanks, then turned back to his son, "—the good man you will become and hear all about your life, your wife and family. But you must be strong now and let me go—" he breathed in shakily, coughing harder this time and the physicians rushed forward to steady him.

The Prince of Gascogne collapsed back on the bed and breathed in heavily and the physicians stepped back, knowing there was now little they could do.

Christophe grabbed his upset son's hand and squeezed it as tightly as he could. "I wanted more time...be good Adam, listen to Lumière and Cogsworth, they will help you...how I envy every moment of their future time with you..." He turned his eyes to look straight ahead.

"Oh Aurélie..." the dying Prince of Gascogne whispered so softly. Then, after a soft breath that was almost like a sigh, Christophe's hand went slack in his son's grasp and he passed away.

Adam shook his head in grieving disbelief. "No! No Père, come back!" He began to weep and clutched his father's hand to his cheek. "Come back!" The young Prince threw himself on his father's body, weeping and pounding Christophe's chest with his small fists.

Lumière, eyes glassy with tears, stepped forward and pulled Adam away as the physicians gathered around.

The boy kicked and cried out in distress, lashing out with his hands and scratching Lumière's face in his blind anguish. "Let me go... Père... _Père_!" He screamed as the tearful maître d' carried him out of the room.

Adam's eyes never left the sight of his deceased father, until one of the physicians shut the white doors when Lumière had carried the distraught prince out of the room, and into the extravagant, massively arched hallway of the _Tuileries Palace._

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**That is chapter one. Please let me know what you thought and I will have a new chapter up soon, thank-you for reading.**


	2. 1778 x 1781

{Note: Prince Adam's castle I've called _Château d'Anges_, it means Castle of Angels. Because if you notice when it transforms it is of the baroque period and filled with beautiful statues, both Grecian and religious, but mostly cherubim and Angels.

So with its beautiful white colour and glorious architecture, I thought it suitably deserved the name.}

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**Chapter Two.**

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_Gascogne, Tarbes, France 1778_

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**T**he droning of the church bell in the small village sounded much quieter then the huge bell of Notre Dame, but it rang no less painfully as Prince Adam leaned out of the veiled, black carriage, following behind the casket drawn funeral carriage bearing his father's coffin.

The streets of the village were lined with peasants holding their hats and women weeping, their handkerchiefs pressed to their eyes. The majority of them had never even laid eyes upon Prince Christophe in life, but mourned for their Prince nevertheless.

There was a sulking, dark haired bully looking boy, who didn't look upset at all. Rather annoyed at being brought out to see the funeral procession. But a hulking, bearded man, (who could only be assumed as being the sulking boy's father as per the close resemblance,) kept a firm grip on his son's shoulder and his head down.

Adam would have liked nothing better than to pick a fight with the similarly aged boy; or at least stop the carriage and single him out for the lack of respect to his father's remains. But, still grieved, the eight-year-old ignored the peasant boy and his pulling faces.

In Paris, where the funeral was held, Prince Adam, clad all in black from his tri-cornered hat to his shining black shoes, (his silk stockings being the only item of clothing he wore in white,) had walked beside the coffin with his head down to hide his red eyes and tears.

The streets had been lined with hundreds of people, and the mourning party walking with him included his uncles and male cousins. His great-Uncle the King had ridden in a carriage with his Queen and several Princesses.

Adam had been invited by the King, after the funeral, for a ceremony at Château Versailles. It would be for his official instatement as Prince of Gascogne.

The ceremony itself, (held three days after his father's funeral,) was long, boring and Adam remained emotionless throughout the entire event.

_"It is to be expected,"_ Cogsworth had commented later that night.

The moustached majordome had arrived, as quickly as possible, when Lumière had sent the news, escorting the widowed Mrs Potts and her two youngest of her children, three year old Christopher, (Chip for short,) and the newborn Margaret.

After Mr Potts had been buried in Paris, Chip had attached himself almost immediately to Adam; whom, lost in his own grief, had no time for the younger boy named for his father and wouldn't speak harshly to him. But still ignored Chip's prattlings and eagerness for attention.

_"But Cogsworth, he is now the Prince of Gascogne! Master Adam has duties and so much to learn...Mon Dieu. Prince Christophe was away so often, he had no time to teach Prince Adam much,"_ Lumière's worried voice replied.

Adam had been listening from his closed bedroom door, his ear pressed against the wooden door to eavesdrop on his servants..._his_ servants.

The boy wanted to hide his head miserably under the pillows of his bed, but he stayed listening in on the conversation between the head of _his_, (that misery inducing word again,) household, (or majordome,) and maître d'.

_"It is up to us then. Mrs Potts has agreed to stay on as minder for Prince Adam as well as head of the kitchens, I will oversee all of his studies, politics, agriculture, the general running of the dukedom and the household. _

"_As for you, Lumière, in addition to your regular tasks, will train Prince Adam in court protocol, manners, dance and see to it that he has anything else he desires; including further training in battle, swordsmanship and any travelling he wishes to do."_ Cogsworth informed his fellow servant of his new orders, scribbling on parchment could be heard as he spoke.

Lumière sighed,_ "Mon Dieu! All this so fast. Prince Christophe not even in the mausoleum yet...if only Princess Aurélie and Princess Christine had managed to escape. They would have helped guide Prince Adam; and Mistress Aurélie could have been regent 'till his highness came of age, it is all lost."_

Adam heard Lumière's large feet pacing up and down the wooden floors. _"It has to be rebuilt again. I fear the power our young Master has been given is too much, we might over indulge the boy."_

Cogsworth sighed, _"well we may, my good Lumière, with reason. His highness is a Prince and he has been well indulged all his life. It is a privilege of the nobility, and something we must not waver in our duty as his guardians and servants to misappropriate any of his wishes. _

"_We can naught but guide his decisions and suggest if there is a problem with them; I agree it is a lot of power for a child, but Prince Adam is no ordinary child."_ There was a slight note of pride in the Englishman's tone. _"He is gifted and so quick—"_

_"I concur, but that vicious temper of his; he must learn to curb it,"_ Lumière interrupted softly. _"Perhaps that is something we must not indulge. Mon Dieu, I love the boy so dearly, but I do not know how well we can raise him after all this tragedy..."_

Adam scowled, and turned his attention from looking outside the carriage to looking down at his black leather gloves. He was alone.

All he had left of his family had no interest in him at the moment, and remained in Paris. But for his servants, Adam would have no company.

In the carriage Cogsworth was seated beside the Prince of Gascogne, with Lumière on the majordome other side next to the window. Mrs Potts and her two youngest children sat on the opposite side of the carriage, sitting beside a miserable looking Capitaine Amable; his arm still in its sling and his bearded features drawn and pale.

Mrs Angela Potts was a round, matronly woman. Her hair was prematurely grey and her kindly, stern mannerisms meant she was generally the only one of the household Adam would actually listen too, especially this past week.

For despite being widowed at the same time Adam had lost his family, Mrs Potts had quietly attended to Adam, talking to him and codling him into eating. Chip would merrily follow his mother, carrying his newborn little sister in his arms.

Adam was slowly learning that indeed Lumière was right in what he'd said to Cogsworth. The newly crowned Prince was in a position to have whatever he desired, and yet Adam would still never have the one thing he truly did want. His parents and his sister back from the dead, and all the burden of being a ruling Prince gone from his small shoulders.

The small procession made their way along the cobbled streets and into the sunlit forests, the well worn path provided smoother travelling, the horses clip-clopping hooves against the ground dimmed in sound, and Cogsworth addressed his master.

"Sire, when we reach the castle it will be required of you to firstly attend the internment of your father's remains; then you will need to have your things moved from the nursery to the master bedroom. Then, if you highness permits there are several inspections..."

Adam turned his head sharply and glared at Cogsworth, the moustached Englishman stumbled over his words under the intense blue gaze of the boy. Lumière placed a hand on Cogsworth's shoulder as their master's irate gaze didn't waver.

"My dear Cogsworth, let his highness alone. All those duties can wait, Master, after you lay your father to rest we shall take care of everything else," Lumière assured his Prince. The boy merely narrowed his eyes in response and looked back out the window.

"Master Adam," Mrs Potts quick speaking voice addressed the Prince. Adam rolled his blue eyes over to look at his former nanny out of the corner of his eye. "Please sir, when someone suggests something you are not prepared to do, give them a verbal reply. It is good manners for a young gentleman such as yourself."

"All right," Adam said suddenly, turning back around to look into Cogsworth's wide, plump and pale features.

"Monsieur Cogsworth, I do not desire to attend any of the duties of which you require me for. I have lost my entire family and I consider that your thoughtlessness is out of stupidity, not out of uncaring. So you may keep your job, I don't know if anyone else would even want it," the Prince inclined his head and went back to staring out of the window.

Cogsworth exhaled in alarm and the majordome began prattling. "Thank-you your highness, your grace..."

Adam looked slightly over his shoulder, "don't thank me Monsieur Cogsworth," he snapped in reply. "Just leave me alone." The boy lent his head on his hands and kept his gaze on the shining green foliage of the trees, the castle was not far away now.

But the boy in all truth had no wish to see _Château d'Anges_. It would be full of painful memories Adam would have to learnt to bear for years to come. Adam wondered if it would ever feel like home again without his family.

The Prince solemnly vowed to himself that he'd never let himself love or care about anyone again. It would only serve to bring him more pain.

_**~Three years later**__._..~

There was a pounding knock on Adam's bedroom door. The aforementioned eleven-year-old boy opened one eye and pushed back his shoulder-length hair from his eyes.

"What is it now?" He yelled out loudly. Every day there seemed to be more and more to do and involve him having to wake up much earlier.

Schooling was getting harder and harder, there was so much more demanded on him outside of study as well.

Duties like visiting the villager major, (which was a loathsome task,) and hearing all the boring progress of the village.

Talks with the farmers, (which at least involved some sort of food offering. Adam might have been haughty but he loved food. Especially the baskets of blackberries and strawberries that he'd consume most of, before the castle chefs could even turn them into his favourite desserts.)

Last year during one of the visits with the farmers Adam had been given a different gift, a puppy. A shaggy Basset Griffon who was overly affectionate and had a habit of sneaking in and sitting under Adam's school desk or in front of his fireplace chair.

The Prince had little time for the creature he'd reluctantly given the name 'Sultan,' but Lumière had jokingly nicknamed the small dog 'Footstool,' and it stuck.

The only upside with the dog was that little Chip was enthralled by it; and it often served as a distraction from the boy following Adam around.

Adam still felt the loss of his family deeply, and the entire staff of the castle were dealing with their young Prince's emotional distance and angry outbursts as best they could, by spoiling him and catering to his every whim they found that he could be placated for the given moment.

Only Mrs Potts would occasionally refuse him something; but very rarely as Adam's temper as he grew older was even starting to frighten her.

"Master, Mrs Potts and I have brought you your breakfast," it was Lumière.

Adam sat up and pushed back his hair, straightening out his bedclothes.

"Well come in Lumière, I don't have all day!" He called out loudly, almost like a snarl. "No doubt I have another load of boring tasks ahead of me today," Adam muttered the last part to himself as the huge doors pushed open and Lumière strolled into the massive bedchamber; followed by Mrs Potts wheeling in a silver meal-tray.

"Bonjour your highness, tis a beautiful morning, no?" Lumière chirped as Mrs Potts came to halt beside the bed and he sided up next to her, clasping his hands together in front of him with a wide smile.

Adam raised his eyebrows, "no," he said swiftly in response.

His maître d's smile didn't diminish, and Lumière bounced over to the windows and pulled open the velvet drapes. The stinging, bright sunlight was reflecting off the piles of snow, even this far up in the castle, and the Prince winced.

"Oh see, it is a beautiful morning! It was only because you had the curtains drawn, no?"

"No! And Lumière you are getting on my nerves! Winter is not beautiful, it is cold, wet and full of miserable snow," Adam snapped in response.

Mrs Potts quickly laid the wooden tray across the Prince's lap and deposited the small silver serving dishes on top, she removed the lids.

"Porridge, a fresh baguette with butter and jam and a nice pot of tea. It will warm you up Master, and make you feel a lot better in this weather," the rounded Englishwoman said mildly, pouring Adam a large cup of the aforementioned tea and depositing three lumps of sugar in the cup.

Adam accepted the fine china teacup with a frown, "I doubt it very much. I'm only eleven and I have to deal with the most stupid tasks, even on Christmas Eve," he sipped the tea in disgust, reaching for the spoon to stir it.

Lumière wrung his hands, the expression on his face kind. "Ah. Well, your highness, perhaps I can suggest to Cogsworth that he deal with any of your tasks today, and you can be free to pursue anything you desire...I only humbly request that you attend some of your protocol lessons with me today," he waved his hands dramatically. "Just a little bit of dancing, if you please, your highness?"

The tall boy picked at his bread with a bored expression. "Fine. But no other tasks...and can I request Mrs Potts daughter Emily instead of that silly Babette maid of yours, as my partner?" Adam picked up his porridge spoon and pointed it at Lumière. "At least Emily is nearer my height, a mute and not a giggly ninny."

Mrs Potts looked offended at Adam choosing her eldest daughter as a dance partner because of her disability. But Lumière's smile only diminished a little under his rather large nose; his brown eyes twinkling at the thought of his lover's laughter, whenever Adam would turn red if her rather voluptuous chest brushed against him.

_Poor boy_, Lumière thought. _Babette is even too much for me sometimes_. "Very well, I will ask Mademoiselle Emily, she is almost thirteen and very beautiful, no?" He teased Adam, hoping to get some sort of reaction, apart from the glare Adam was permanently wearing these days; but to no avail.

The finely sculpted features, (making him look more and more like his father every day,) turned, and piercing blue eyes looked out with disdain from the high-cheek boned face of the boy prince. "What should I care about a common kitchen girl? Or _any_ girl for that matter? Go away the both of you, you are dismissed!" Adam barked, turning his gaze away and folding his arms with a huff.

Mrs Potts quickly turned the cart around and wheeled it out of the room, her plump features flushed with worry; and then Lumière bowed swiftly and muttered his farewell, shutting the large doors behind him as the maître d' departed as quickly as possible.

Adam shook his head in frustration and returned to his breakfast. He had been very hungry lately. Mrs Potts had noted that from being small for his age, Adam had grown rather quickly in the past year to being quite tall for his age.

"_Growth spurts bring on great hunger in boys_," the Englishwoman pointed out with a smile. "_In a few years you'll be towering over all of us_."

The Prince of Gascogne didn't know quite what to do with himself. He'd always been fast, but now his quickly growing limbs were making him clumsy; and now when Adam looked in the mirror he could see in his reflection the resemblance to his father even more strongly. Not to mention his mother's bright blue eyes as well...

It was a constant source of pain and a reminder of his loss. Adam hated growing older as there was no-one he could think of but Lumière, or Cogsworth, to talk to about his changing body.

Lumière seemed the best option. Cogsworth would most likely bumble and stutter around the issue, but Lumière had always been more relaxed around him, treating him more like a little brother then a Prince. (Not that Adam approved of that entirely.)

But Lumière had been there at the moment of his father's passing. He had comforted Adam outside of those closed doors...and stood beside him at the funeral. Yes. It was the best idea to discuss these things with him.

Adam finished up his meal and pushed the tray away, pushing back the covers, he swung out his long legs and placed his bare feet on down on the soft, dark-blue velvet carpet. Clad in his cream coloured nightshirt, the Prince of Gascogne padded across the room to the shut glass doors of the balcony.

The youth unlatched the doors and pushed them open. It was quite cold, but very clear and bright day.

Adam walked out onto the balcony and lent his arms over the stone balustrade. The view from the West Wing master rooms was naturally the best in the castle. It looked across the castle grounds and out to the woods.

At the moment everything was covered in powdery snow; the grounds-people were shovelling the snow into wide banks to clear the pathways. Wrapped in layers of clothing the men were talking, laughing and jostling one another.

Adam never could quite understand the revelry of companionship. Only Mrs Potts eight children, (from the eldest at twelve to the youngest at three,) were the closest to him in age; and they were rosy cheeked and boisterous. They'd lost their father, which had sent their mother's hair grey, and yet only a month after Jack Potts had died, they were back to running around making a nuisance.

While, instead, Adam still mourned his loss. Perhaps it was because it took his mother and sister also...even Capitaine Amable had left a year after the tragedy.

(In his never ending heartbreak over Christine, the distraught Edgard asked Adam for his leave to try and seek out the Princesses of Gascogne, as he adamantly swore that they were still alive.)

Prince Adam had no choice but to let the Captain of the guards go. Edgard's replacement, Capitaine André de Gaulle, was a nice enough man, but plain spoken and stern; and would systematically teach Adam swordsmanship and battle tactics, with no side conversation or kindness.

Capitaine de Gaulle seemed, like the rest of the servants, to have a certain amount of fear, (or apprehension,) about correcting him.

Adam hated this. It made him so mad that he lashed out cruelly, mostly with words but sometimes with his fists (as one of the stable boys had discovered when he hadn't saddled the Prince's horse properly, and Adam fell off when the girth unlatched.)

Even Sultan had been kicked once in anger. Not that it stopped the little dog from happily trotting after Adam if he ever spotted him. The hunting hounds of Christophe's were less devoted, and hunting parties, (with the groundsmen and the guards,) often ended with the dogs coming back the next day.

Capitaine de Gaulle suggested that perhaps Adam should spend more time in the kennels getting to know them. The boy Prince sharply, and promptly, replied that if the Captain could find him some time to spend the hounds in his busy schedule, then he would do so.

There was a creaking sound of one of the side doors opening to disrupt the young Prince from his brooding. Adam looked over his shoulder to see his valet de chambre, Michel, a tall, dark bearded man; who was quiet, diligent and also a violinist with the castle chamber orchestra.

Prince Adam marched from the balcony into his chambers and Michel bowed deeply in greeting, then walked over to shut the doors to the balcony before strolling back.

The youthful ruler of Gascogne sat down unceremoniously on the edge of the bed, as his valet opened up the wardrobe and took out a pair of neatly folded dark brown breeches, then a shirt and light blue coat. Michel unfurled and laid the clothing down on the bed beside the Prince, he then went back to the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of brown boots.

Lately, Adam had demanded soft leather boots instead of the usual buckled shoes in his every day dressing, (even for formal occasions he had shining boots made, like he was a solider rather than a Prince.)

It had caused much interest last month when Adam had been invited to _Versailles_. The rarely seen orphaned Prince du Sang of Gascogne was a quiet, handsome boy that the ladies of the court had loved to have in their chambers to dote over. He'd been offered sweetmeats by the dozen, and the Princesses all devotedly fought over dancing with him at court.

Adam kept his temper in check the entire visit, (to the accompanying Lumière's delight over his charge's perfect manners,) despite the smile that never appeared on the boy's face; that all types of courtiers seemed to be constantly trying to make appear, but to no avail.

(Lumière later commented in private to Cogsworth, that some members of court were perhaps running a money bet amongst themselves to do so.)

Queen Marie Antoinette had ordered a painting done of the Prince by the best of the court painters. Two copies had been made and one had been sent to Adam only days ago.

The portrait was of Adam's head and shoulders, and he was dressed in the finest blue and gold court military jacket. (It was at the Queen's request, she had said he was like a little general in his boots all the time.)

Most paintings were done to a romantic ideal, and Adam looked slightly older in the painting; but the talented artist had captured his high cheekbones, serious expression and his eyes were a mirror image. It was rather embarrassing, and almost as bad as looking in the mirror every day.

The painting was hung in these chambers, Adam was too perturbed by it to have moved it anywhere else in the castle yet. It stared out across at him as he thought about it.

Michel said something in his very soft voice and the Prince snapped his head to the side.

"What was that?"

The valet bowed his head, his face almost disappearing into his dark beard. "I am sorry, Master. I said that your bath has been drawn and Lumière will be by in about an hour to take you for your dancing practice," Michel mumbled a little louder; but not much more.

Adam nodded and got to his feet, Michel trailed after his Prince as he headed for the bathroom door. It looked like another day of endless boredom and stupid servants.

Christmas celebrations indeed.

-xxx-

Lumière placed Adam's hand on Emily Potts lower back, adjusted the boy's left arm position, and fixed up the Prince's clumsy grasp of the girl's hand.

"No, no your highness, you must hold the young mademoiselle's hand gently, but firmly. Keep your hand on her waist in the same way." He dictated gently and placed his hands on Adam's shoulders. "Keep you back straight, not hunched over; and eyes on the young mademoiselle, not on your feet."

Adam lifted up his blue eyes to stare expressionlessly at the shy, fair haired kitchen girl dressed in a plain grey dress with a white apron. She was pretty, in a plain way, similar to her mother, but very skinny in comparison.

Emily smiled at him and the boy only nodded his head in response.

Lumière patted Emily's arm, "just perfect chère fille," he stepped back and walked across to the corner of the ballroom where Mrs Potts and the perky maid Babette were seated. Mrs Potts was knitting something in blue, and the maid was holding the wool as they watched the two children.

Michel had his violin at the ready and waited patiently for the maître d to give his word.

"Now good Michel."

The erstwhile valet began to play Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's _Violin concerto no. 5 in A major_. The French nobility were becoming a fan of the small German composer.

Adam had actually met Herr Mozart at a small gathering in Vienna. (One of his disinterested Aunts, who hadn't left Austria for her brother's funeral ,wanted to check-up on his son and invited him to her home. Once Aunt Éléonore was assured that there were enough servants in the castle to take care of her only nephew, she sent Adam back home after a couple of days with some heirlooms, and never contacted him again.)

Only half-a-foot taller than Adam, and very thin and pale with a shock of blond hair, the well dressed Mozart was very amusing and explained to Adam a little about music. But the nineteen-year-old had a curious kind of friendly mockery that the young Prince didn't care for.

Nevertheless, Wolfgang had found out that Adam was a Prince, and asked him about patronage, and if he was after a court composer.

Adam was mildly interested, he liked the short composer's magical music.

But Mozart also mentioned that his father was pursuing opportunities for him in Salzburg; but he instead hoped to find somewhere in the Viennese court. Wolfgang asked for Adam to remember him, and gave him his address in Vienna, (stating that if he could find no opportunity he would be more than delighted to attend the Gascogne court.)

Adam was secretly glad that he would not have to commit to the composer. For all his good music, Mozart was entirely too cheerful, and would be yet another annoyance. The old court composer here was good enough.

Music was sometimes the only thing that cheered Adam up, provided it wasn't droning organ music. Sundays in the chapel were filled with enough of that. It almost always put the Prince of Gascogne to sleep, between the hymns and the slow, dull voice of the priest rambling on about paying penitence for your sins.

Adam was a child still. What sort of sinning could he have possibly done yet, apart from losing his temper with the servants and punching a stupid stable-boy?

Distracted in his thoughts, Adam stepped on the foot of Emily hard and the girl let out a small gasp, the almost silent sound nevertheless startled Adam; who then tripped over his own rather large booted feet on the polished ballroom floor, and landed backward onto his behind.

The servants all rushed to his side. Michel placing down his violin and Mrs Potts and Babette tossing aside their knitting. Lumière put his arms under Adam's and hoisted the boy to his feet as Emily stood uncertainly off to the side, petrified at what her Master's reaction could be.

Adam shook off his maître d' hold and glared up at him. "No more! No more of these dance lessons."

"Oh but Master, you were doing so well till you lost your footing. You have a natural talent, just like your parents—" Lumière tried to reassure the Prince, but the boy stomped his foot and Mrs Potts, Emily Michel and Babette stepped back; prepared for the rant they knew was coming from the expression on their master's face.

"I am nothing like them. _They_ were kind and graceful. I am violent and clumsy," Adam shouted back with a scowl.

Mrs Potts put her hand on her eldest daughter's shoulder and smiled at Adam knowingly."Oh but young Master you are still growing. All boys your age have clumsy spells, it's a normal part of growing up, and you will probably be as tall as your father wa—"

Adam shook his head, "I will have no more talk of my parents or my sister in my presence. They are dead," he yelled. "I don't need to be reminded of them, or how I look like my father," he pointed towards a side door.

"Leave me now. Go finish your duties for whatever Christmas planning you are tasked with."

The servants all bowed, Mrs Potts, Babette and Michel left to go gather their things, with Emily sticking close to her mother. Lumière went to go help them, but Adam put his hand on his maître d's arm, and looked up at him firmly.

"Lumière, you stay. I need to ask you something."

The tall maître d' blinked in surprise, "oui your highness," he managed to say, surprised at the seriousness, but not angry, manner Adam asked him to remain with him. Despite his pre-pubescent voice, Lumière couldn't help but think how much he sounded like Christophe.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Adam walked over to where Mrs Potts and Babette had been sitting before and sat down on one of the padded wooden chairs. Lumière held back a grin as he followed the young Prince, and sat down opposite him when the boy motioned for him to do so.

_Mon Dieu_, Lumière thought._ His feet do not even reach the floor yet when he's seated, and yet he presents himself so grown up. Poor boy_.

Adam cleared his throat and looked down at his folded arms. "Lumière, it is not easy for me to talk about certain things," he began, looking up at his servant with a frown. "I would have talked perhaps with my father if he would be here, but...well..." the boy's blue eyes darted to the side.

"I am getting older and there are certain things I no doubt need to be told about soon."

Lumière blinked, taken back for a moment as he worked out what the Prince was talking about and nodded kindly. "Oh...oh of course your highness. Yes there are certain things that are learnt as one becomes a man. Not only physical, but of course the oiseaux et les abeilles, (birds and bees) side of things." He smiled and Adam got to his feet.

"Very well then. I wish for you to discuss these things with me tonight before I retire," the Prince waved his hand. "You may go Lumière." Adam dismissed, walking across the ballroom quickly. Leaving the maître d' smiling sadly as he watched the boy marched away.

"Prince Christophe, be with your son. I fear he has grown cold in your absence; even before your death. Now I and the others must be left to fill your place as he grows," Lumière murmured, running his hand over his coiffed hair; and re-tying his bow. (Which had become loose after rushing to Adam's side when he'd fallen.)

"I don't know if we can save him from his own cold, unfeeling self, but Bon Dieu I will try."

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**Thank-you for all your reviews.**


	3. 1781 x Un simple est monté

**Thank-you for all your reviews. **

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**Chapter 3**

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**T**he head groom jumped out of the way to avoid his Prince, who burst through the stall door astride his snorting, fine headed Arabian mare Diamant. (She had been Princess Christine's sixteenth birthday gift; but the delicate, fiery horse had often been neglected in favour of a calmer palfrey. Her brother had assumed ownership of what he deemed the most perfect horse in the stable.)

Adam didn't even glance over his shoulder as he lent forward in the saddle and nudged the small mare further, the grey Diamant snorted and revelled in being allowed her full, striding speed; more stable hands jumped away from their duties to avoid the thundering horse hooves.

Some of Mrs Potts simply dressed children, (the five youngest, David, John, Joan, Christopher and Margaret,) looked on in wonder.

Little Chip, wrapped up in a red woollen scarf, beaming at the sight of his beloved Master whom he much admired; even though Chip's older brothers, (including the eldest Gregory who was now living in England and apprenticed to Mrs Pott's brother-in-law who was a blacksmith,) scolded him for openly adoring their Master. Saying Adam was cold, cruel and a bad egg.

Ignoring his servants, Adam rode Diamant down the garden path and out towards the grounds just outside the walled gardens, towards the mausoleum which was out near the black forest. He'd never understood why the castle was so far from from the capital of Gascogne, _Auch_, or even from the much more fashionable _Pau_.

Instead the Château d'Anges was in the Midi-Pyrenees near the tiny village of Tarbes. It involved much travelling around the Gascogne region, (when visiting the rest of the towns, Adam wasn't even allowed to ride in a carriage, for fear of a similar attack that had taken his parents. He rode Diamant in the middle of his guards much larger and powerful brown and black steeds. The crowds barely ever saw the child Prince until he dismounted, and even then they only caught a fleeting glimpse as the Capitaine, and three other guards, flanked the solemn Adam on all sides wherever he went.)

Adam's paternal Grandfather, Louis the XV, had built Château d'Anges, as retreat from his own extravagant court. The nearby _Château de Pau_ had once been used for that use also. But recently his daughter-in-law, Queen Marie Antoinette, (a close cousin of Adam's mother,) had taken over the charming castle with her followers.

Louis the XV gave ownership to his daughter when she married, at fourteen, to the Prince Vincent of Gascogne; Louis beloved eldest child died soon after the birth of Christophe, and Prince Vincent had built an elaborate mausoleum for his young bride. Adam remembered his Grandfather's facial features being very similar to Christophe's, but he was slender and very often ill without the robust health Adam inherited from his father, Vincent had died when Adam was six.

Adam pondered all these things as he approached the grave-site. It was almost hidden in the grove of oak trees massed around the outlying field near the _Forêt Noire_(Black Forest). Dismounting and tying Diamant's reins to a overhanging branch, the young Prince walked along the path and pushed open the well oiled, iron gate.

Taking off his tri-cornered hat Adam surveyed the kept area, he rarely came here.

When Christophe had been entombed Adam had started to have nightmares about this place; he dreamed that from within the tomb he could hear his father crying out to him, and he'd rush to the wooden door of the mausoleum, but couldn't open them to let Christophe out.

Adam pulled his purple cloak tighter about his shoulders, approaching the tomb slowly, crunching the frosty snow under his booted feet, the boy hesitantly reached out to the metal, circular handle and pushed.

The door swung open and the boy walked inside, it was still light so there was no need for a flaming torch; sunlight streamed in through the stain glass windows and into the marble construction. Adam blinked and lowered his eyes as he walked past the few coffins in the tomb. His Grandmother's, his Grandfather's, two tiny coffins that belonged to Adam's twin sisters, (Heloise Margaret and Frances Therese, who had been born nearly three years before him and had both died of smallpox when Adam had been two.)

Adam didn't remember anything about them, he did think it might have been nice to have had another two sisters, he'd loved Christine Marie very much.

Turning his attention towards the large, black coffin of his father, Adam traced his fingers across the gold lettering and floral designs, _Christophe Louis Vincent Henri, Prince du Sang of Gascogne_.

Adam, instead of kneeling and praying at the side of his father, began to pound the coffin in his unbridled anger.

"It's not _fair_! Do you hear me Père? You were never there, and then you die and leave me with all this responsibility; I hate everyone, including every one of those stupid servants you left me with. Listen to Cogsworth and Lumière you said?" The young Prince questioned, numbering off his annoyance on his stubby fingers.

"One sprouts constant tasks and other such work for me so I never can rest, and the other is always after silly maids and is impossibly cheerful; Mrs Potts is curt with me and her children are boisterous and loud!" Adam shouted, his blue eyes blazing and his hair falling out from his ponytail and plastering against his forehead.

"I get _no_ peace and I am tired of it all. I loathe doing things for others when they do nothing for me in return!"

His small fists red from the pounding he was giving the gold handled coffin, Adam finally got to his feet and turned his back. "I hate you. If only you had put off whatever stupid business you had in Paris Maman and Christine would still be alive..." the boy Prince pushed back down his hat. "...and so would you." Adam added the last part with a scowl as he marched up the stairs, pulling the door shut hard.

The loud sound startled Diamant, who lifted up her small head to look over at her approaching master, who was kicking at the snow drifts in his cold anger and the mare snorted as the tall boy slammed the metal gate shut, shaking it for good measure.

Adam suddenly stopped mid way towards Diamant and let out a loud yell, half of loneliness, half of an uncontrollable rage that was boiling up inside of him. It echoed around the small grove and out through to the black forest, startling ravens who rose up out of the trees. The large, black birds calling out in fear from the noise as they flapped away across the darkening skies.

-xxx-

Waiting inside the stable as Adam returned on Diamant, were an absolutely relieved looking Cogsworth, Capitaine de Gaulle, (who was frowning under his dark, thin moustache in his usual manner,) and Lumière whom was inside one of the stalls, using a dandy brush on the face of Christophe's old black stallion Bacchus.

Adam pulled a face as the head groom walked over to take the reins of Diamant as the Prince dismounted.

"Your highness, how could you be so foolish?" de Gaulle demanded, "you know you must be accompanied by myself, Cogsworth or Lumière when you leave the grounds. What if something happened to you..."

Adam's scowl deepened, "nothing happened to me. You should not be so upset and remember whom is the master here," the boy interrupted with a low growl, glaring over at Lumière who had opened the gate and was stepping out of the stall. "Lumière, tomorrow morning I want you to find me a new Capitaine of the guard. I find Capitaine de Gaulle to be incompetent as he knows not his place."

The maître d' blinked over at the shocked looking de Gaulle and half bowed to Adam, "but Master, I am not head of your household; the task should be Cogsworth's since Capitaine Amable chose Capitaine de Gaulle, perhaps you are being too hasty..."

Adam looked over at his Majordomo, "Cogsworth is not a good judge of character, it is your task Lumière," he took off his gloves as the men stood around silently. "Well then see to it," the Prince snapped as he turned on his heel and marched out of the stable, not even looking back.

_Useless servants_, he thought, untying his ponytail, they'd trodden on his last nerve. So few of them could be tolerated.

-xxx-

Sitting in Christine's room always comforted him, sitting on that bed, Adam remembered how he used to sneak into Christine's room, when he was very little. Mostly when he could not sleep, frightened of dreams of a huge, terrifying furred monster who pursued him across a vast, dark, empty space from which he could see no door or other way of escaping.

Adam pulled his knees up to his chin and grabbed the purple, embroidered cushion on the bed and smelt the soft perfume of rose and jasmine, beautiful, sweet Christine. Not the giggly, high curled wig wearing damsel she was forced to play at parties and court functions.

No, the darling young woman with her long, red hair falling out of a simple braid. Christine's soft white arms around him as she held him close, stroking his hair and speaking soft words of comfort in her low voice, telling him old stories and fables that sounded so much better coming from her lips then his grizzly old tutors.

He made a face as the thought of his miserable old tutor, Monsieur Ennuyeux. At least today he'd gotten out of lessons with that droning, sour faced, straw haired nitwit, who seemed more concerned with teaching Adam English, (Ennuyeux's native tongue,) so that he could stop teaching all the other lessons he had with him in French. Horrid man.

There was a creaking sound as the door opened and the startled Prince glared over at the tall, voluptuous, middle-aged woman who entered the room and curtsied deeply.

"Forgive me Master, I came in to do my daily keeping of Mademoiselle Christine's room," the former opera diva apologised with her head bowed.

Adam always thought it a wonder that her high wigged head didn't fall into her huge, corseted cleavage when she lowered it, "it is alright Madame de la Grande Bouche, I am leaving." He said stoically, getting to his feet and brushing past the wide, apron covered skirts of the former maid and habilleur of his sister; who turned around and repeated her curtsy as the Prince left.

Soon after the death of his family, Cogsworth had asked the young Prince if there was anyone he wished to dismiss that was no longer required. Adam had responded that no-one was to leave; he took his father's valet Michel as his own, his mother's maids were to keep her rooms as if Aurélie was still alive, and the same went for Madame de la Grande Bouche for his sister's chamber.

After marching down the painting covered walls of the east wing, the Prince walked down the stairs and encountered Chip, who was in the middle of the main foyer running around with Sultan; who was barking merrily and chasing after the little boy, his ears flopping with every bounce and joyful bark at the little, fair haired boy's giggling.

Catching sight of his Master, however, the little Basset Griffon let out a delighted yelp and barrelled over to Adam, closely followed by the exuberant Chip, who grinned widely up at the older boy as Sultan ran in circles around them.

"Master Adam, Master Adam! Mama and the others have organised a huge feast in the Great Dining Hall," the son of the English head-maid spread out his arms dramatically. "Mama sent me to find you but I couldn't, and then I found Footstool and we were—"

Adam let out an annoyed snort and marched away from the boy towards the Grande Salle à Manger. In no mood for Chip's blabbering and bouncy mood, he moved quickly as he could hear Chip not too far behind, continuing in his story although Adam had long ago given up listening.

However, true to the blond haired child's word, the grand dining table was laden with food for both Adam alone this evening; and even some items for tomorrow when, as the castle tradition dictated, he would have Christmas dinner with his head servants.

All the servants curtsied or bowed as their dishevelled and angry looking Prince finally arrived. Unceremoniously and without greeting, Adam thumped down in the grandly carved, huge chair at the head of the table.

Chef Bouche himself (brother to Madame de la Grande,) his delicate moustached features proudly beaming, delicately laid down the first course, _Soupe aux Chataignes_.

As Adam ate the chestnut soup, all the servants but Mrs Potts, (with Chip sitting just behind her on a plain wooden stool with Sultan curled up beside him,) Lumière and Cogsworth departed. As the Prince finished, Chef Bouche brought around each of the following courses exactly as soon as he was done, _foie gras de canard_ sauteed with figs and onions, then _Marinade de Poulets_ with a side of _Pan-tourte de Spinage_ and creamy cheeses.

For dessert, Chef Bouche gallantly brought to his Master a rich _Gâteau à la Jacobine_, made with Adam's favourite blackberry jam instead of currant; accompanied with delicate Calissons and a small glass of sweet Armagnac brandy.

When he was done, Adam dabbed his mouth with the lace edged napkin and inclined his head at the Chef, but said nothing, and the long suffering Bouche, (accompanied by his lower Chefs and kitchen hands,) bowed and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Mrs Potts approached her former charge and curtsied.

"Would you like to adjourn to the Grand Hall, Master? The staff have decorated it from ceiling to floor with holly and ivy, and lit candles, it is very beautiful," she suggested, the Prince inclined his head and stood up.

"Very well, I will sit beside the fire and I do not want your children to disturb me, especially that one," Adam pointed over at innocent looking Chip, who looked upset and Cogsworth gently patted him on the shoulder.

Marching out of the room ahead of his servants, Adam boot heals clicked quickly across the polished floor as he entered the vast hall where the rest of the staff were gathered, they all bowed deeply and called out.

"Joyeux Noël votre Hauteur! (Merry Christmas your Highness,)" in one voice, they applauded.

Adam ignored them. He looked around at the red ribboned wreaths and holly adorning every one of the walls, elaborately carved balustrades and tall white columns. Candelabras were lit and the huge fireplace was roaring with a merry fire, crackling at huge wooden logs arranged neatly.

Sitting on the large chair arranged beside the fire, Adam watched the servants gather around in small groups and relax, laughing and talking before midnight mass in the chapel which everyone attended; the servant children, including Mrs Potts brood, were rushing around with nougat and other sweetmeats, handing them around and singing.

"_Trois anges sont venus ce soir, M'apporter de bien belles choses. L'un d'eux avait un encensoir, L'autre avait un bouquet de roses_..." (_Three angels came tonight, To bring me very beautiful things. One of them had a censer, another had a bouquet of roses _…)

Mrs Potts was seated on a plush chair not very far away from Adam, little Chip had crawled up onto her lap, (her youngest child Margaret had been put to bed already.) The children bowed and curtsied to their Prince as they danced by; dressed in their church clothing and their faces rosy from the heat of the cheerful fire and the merriment of the season.

"_Et le troisième avait en main, une robe toute fleurie, de perles, d'or et de jasmin comme en a Madame Marie_..." (_And the third had in hand, a very flowery robe of pearls, gold, and jasmine, like Madame Marie has_...)

"Mama, will you tell me a story?" Chip's clear, chirpy voice inquired of his mother.

Mrs Potts stroked his hair and cuddled her youngest son close, "of course my dear. What do you wish to hear?" Mrs Potts asked the cherub, who scratched his cheek thoughtfully.

"I wish to hear how the Master got his name. I know I got my name from good Prince Christophe, but Lumière told me that it is an interesting story about Master's name and you tell it well, please Mama?" The little boy was in earnest, and Mrs Potts looked anxiously over at Adam, the Prince was looking out of the corner of his blue eyes, but hadn't said anything yet.

"I...I expect I can my darling. It was a much different night to this one, it was early spring, sunny and blue-skied, and the orange blossoms were blooming in the orchard. Dear Princess Aurélie was walking amongst them with her three daughters and myself, heavily pregnant the Princess was radiant and almost outshone the sun itself. _"Mon Dieu Mrs Potts,"_ she confided in me, _"I feel so different with this baby, I am most certain it will be a boy this time."_ And almost as soon as the words had left her mouth, I had to catch Princess Aurélie before she stumbled onto the grassy ground, because she had gone into labour."

Mrs Potts looked over again at Adam, who had shut his eyes and was leaning back on his chair. "Well I can tell you that we positively rushed back to the castle, an orchard is no place for a Prince or Princess to be born! And just as dawn was breaking the next day, a little boy was born and the proud Père, Prince Christophe may he rest in peace, was brought in to hold his first-born son. He was so happy, so proud. A son to a ruling monarch is a very important birth..."

There was a disbelieving snort from the scowling Prince, Mrs Potts knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but she found it cruel of Adam to act so cold to the memory of his father, whom had loved him so very much. "Princess Aurélie whispered that she had a request and she asked Prince Christophe if their son's name could be Adam..."

Chip blinked his large blue eyes, "but why Mama?" He interrupted with surprise.

Mrs Potts kissed the top of her son's head and looked fondly over at the Prince, "Adam means man or created, and he was their first born son. Prince Christophe thought it was a wonderful idea, and our good Master was christened Adam Vincent Alexandre Louis," she finished.

Chip blinked his eyes,"that's a lot of names Mama," he leant over and whispered something in Mrs Potts ear, Adam's keen hearing picked up most of the loud whispered, including, "..._that why he's so grumpy all the time, he has to remember all those names_..."

There was a clearing of the throat and Adam looked up to see Lumière standing beside his chair with Babette.

"Master, I am loath to interrupt your sojourn before mass, but Babette says there is someone at the front door who wishes to speak with you."

Adam looked beyond annoyed, "a visitor? At this hour? How dare they disturb me. Tell them to be off at once and your silly maid should have done so in the first place," he snapped, shutting his eyes again. There was a whimpering sound from the perky maid, obviously fearing for her job, and Lumière tried again.

"Master," the maître d' implored, the Prince opened up one eye to regard the large brown eyes he'd seen all his life; there was concern in that gaze that angered the boy. "Please, have pity on the old Madame, it is a cold blizzard outside and the Madame is only dressed in a thin cloak. At least see what she wants, please?"

Silence had gone around the room, most of the servants gravely suspecting that Lumière had over stepped his bounds, and even if Prince Adam agreed to see the old woman, Lumière might be in the firing line.

Cogsworth in particular, (swallowing a large mouthful of Calisson, then rushing across the room from his flirting in the corner of the hall with the elaborately clothed Madame de la Grande,) felt he had to jump in to try and soothe the situation; though Cogsworth's verbal (and sometimes physical,) battles with Lumière were legendary in the castle.

"Now Lumière," the rounded Englishman reprimanded in his overly concise French as his fellow servant glared at him, (obviously ready to go into fisticuffs if Cogsworth said something he didn't agree with.) "Do not disturb the Master with such silly requests. Master I will go and dismiss this intruder in your castle..."

Adam growled and jumped to his booted feet with a glare up at his majordome and maître d', "whom is the Master here you two crétins? If she wishes to be personally removed from my castle by myself, I can be that generous on Christmas eve," he snapped, marching quickly across the large room.

The Prince's hurried footsteps were followed by the quick moving Lumière, Babette and Mrs Potts with Chip in her arms; and behind them the slower, and only slightly more nervous, Cogsworth, vainly pleading for Adam to wait just a moment.

Ignoring the pleas of his servants, Adam stomped across the foyer and reached the large wooden doors, reaching up to the huge iron handles and pulling them open, the Prince glared down at the unassuming, tiny figure. She was leaning on a crude wooden cane and standing on his castle doorstep, this peasant had already become a source of great anger for him, even before he'd laid eyes upon her.

The thin, green hood lifted up slightly as the most hideous visage, (that Prince Adam had ever laid eyes on,) became more clearly visible as the old woman lifted her head to look up at him pleadingly. She had one good eye which was unusually clear and green in colour, while her bad eye was shut, swollen and jutted out from her heavily wrinkled brow.

Her entire face was a mismatch of worn and blemished elderly skin; she had a prominent hair lip on the top of her drooping mouth, a wart on the side of her hooked nose and her hands were gnarled with age. She was clad in ratty green clothing that smelt vaguely of travel, (and scents of other things the fastidious boy didn't dare think about.)

"Please sir," the old woman's crackling voice was high pitched and kind, but Adam still stepped back in the foyer, watched on by his nervous servants as he backed away from the elderly lady; fearful of her ugly face and angry at the same time.

The crone stepped over the threshold and reached out with her gnarled free hand as she hobbled after the Prince, clutching her left hand hand on the top of her cane, "kind sir, sweet Prince, would you grant me shelter for the night from the bitter cold?" The old woman stopped and reached into her cloak with her right hand.

"I regret I have no money nor valuable possessions to offer, only this," the disfigured crone pulled out a thorny, long stemmed red rose from inside her tattered clothing. It was in perfect bloom and immediately the servants realised something was strange.

Roses like that did not bloom in this cold season.

But Adam was disgusted and didn't think the same thoughts as his servants, firstly he could not stand such a hideous face as this old woman's, now she thought offer him something as ridiculous as a single rose for shelter in his castle?

"Oh is that so? Be gone you foul beggar and do not look in my mirrors on the way out, least they crack in sight of the horror of your face!" The Prince pointed out the open door, through which the blustering winds were howling loudly outside and bringing in snow.

The ancient crone seemed quite serene as she move closer and lifted the rose, still clutched in her long finger-nailed hand, "my sweet Prince, be not deceived by outwards appearances. It is true beauty that is found within," her voice seemed stronger and the others were growing nervous, they had heard common tales of what dwelt in the _Forêt noire_.

But Adam sneered again and moved to shove the old woman out the door forcefully, "I see. Well Madame Grotesque, you can take your silly sentiments and go find true beauty in someone else's house, not mine. Be gone from my castle and my grounds at once!" He moved to grab her arm but Adam was thrown back by an unseen force.

As he was flung across the foyer, the old woman's ugliness melted away and in a burst of sparking light in her place stood a beautiful woman, the most beautiful woman any one in the room had ever seen, taller then Lumière, she had long, golden waves of hair that rolled down her back.

Her tall form was clad in a gown of the most beautiful fabric of spun gold and green, with an elongated crown with many points upon her head and a sparkling wand in her hand, her huge eyes were full of a deathly-white glow and her voice was low, echoing and sweet; with a disappointment in it that chilled Adam to his very core.

The rose was clearly also a magical device, it glowed and hovered beside the magical woman.

"I am an Enchantress. I have been watching you a long time Prince Adam, and I have clearly seen this day that there is no love in your heart. You are fair in appearance, but your soul is beastly, so I curse you to become that which you are inside, outside also; a beast," the Enchantress lifted her wand and the Prince fell to his knees and clasped his hands in front of her.

"No! Please I didn't know virtuous lady!" the boy begged, weeping openly and clutching at the fine fabric of her skirts. The servants had backed away in fear and Mrs Potts was holding her son tightly, her hand resting on the back of his head,

The Enchantress raised her fair eyebrows in sympathy for the pitiful creature at her heals, but she shook her head solemnly, "I am sorry young Prince, that is not the way of things. It is too late and you scorned that which you should have had the most love and pity for, a person in need. You feel nothing of love so you must pay the price and learn your lesson," the magical being raised her wand again and placed the end just above Adam's bowed head.

The first thing the boy Prince felt was burning, like he was on fire and he cried out in pain and fell back; feeling like thousands of arms were grabbing at him, twisting and pulling at his limbs. As this sensation was going on a less painful, but prickling experience, was also occurring along his skin, crawling like tiny ants.

Looking down in horror at his hands, Adam saw thick, tawny hairs growing all over his limbs, he felt entire body swelling and twisting, tearing apart his fine clothing and leaving nothing but shreds as his form changed. His chest became so broad it burst across the front of his shirt and the back of his fine shirt tore when, with a shriek from the boy, his back became curved and grew out a mighty hunch like that of a bear, and yet still more fur was growing and something long was growing from his lower back.

Adam looked down as he saw his boots had burst along the seams and his feet had become clawed, like those of a wolf, his legs were as swollen as his arms and slowly, in bursts of pain, his hands twisted into mighty paws with sharp, retractable claws. Lifting the aforementioned paws to his face as he felt his jaw and entire face elongate; his jaw jutted out and he traced the flat, wet animal olfactory organ in place of his previous straight nose.

In a final stabbing feeling, Adam felt his two lower canines enlarge and become pointed, sitting just on top of his upper lip. He cried out and huddled into a ball with a loud snarling growl, like that of a stabbed wild animal.

The Enchantress stood in front of the Prince as Cogsworth and Lumière went to rush to their transformed Master's side, "and as for you and all the rest of the household servants, you will not be spared my wraith. This boy was left in your care and you continued to spoil him and let him have his way. I shall be kinder in this enchantment, you will become objects resembling those that you use in your stations."

Again the Enchantress raised her sparkling wand and waved it.

Adam had his paws to his eyes, but upon hearing his servants cries, shut his eyes tightly and jammed his huge paws over where his ears had once been, but finding them not there patted the top his head; pulling back as he felt the two curved horns, but eventually finding his transformed ears and tried to cover them. But then he felt a pair hands around his wrists, and he snapped open his eyes to hazily gaze up at the glowing Enchantress.

"To your feet, Prince Adam, I have things to tell you about the manner of this curse. I suspect you would like to know how it may be broken?"

She hoisted the boy-beast to his feet and Adam stood shakily upon his new feet, looking around in horror for his servants, "Lumière? Cogsworth? Mrs Potts?" His growling voice still contained a trace of his pre-pubescent tone, but the snarling sound behind it frightened him, he felt a tug on his pant leg.

Looking down Adam saw a golden, tri-candelabra with a face carved from the wax that looked painfully familiar.

"Lumière?"

"Oui, I am so sorry Master. We failed you," the voice was just the same; waddling to the side of Lumière was a wooden mantel clock who was gazing up at Adam in semi-horror. "Cogsworth my poor friend, it is the Master!" He waved his right candlestick in front of Cogsworth's face to stop the round-faced clock, (his moustache replaced with a first and second hand,) from staring blankly at the Prince-turned-Beast.

But the poor majordome's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fainted, Lumière bent over to try to bring him too by waving what had been his hands, in the process accidentally lighting up his candlesticks; which made him stare in horror at his self combustion and study what had become of his hands.

A wailing sound that sounded like Babette caused Lumière to stop what he was doing and follow the sound, hopping along on his base to the other side of the foyer and delicately picking up a feather duster in his metal arms, "ma cherie..."

"Oh Lumière, mon amour..."

Adam saw a rounded, white teapot nuzzling and talking comfortingly to a small tea-cup, "Mrs Potts," he murmured, the Enchantress waved her hands and she looked around.

"Gather you all here and listen," she ordered, they all assembled around Adam. Chip was looking up in awe at his hulking Master while everyone else had their eyes lifted to the tall Enchantress.

The magical being grabbed the floating rose out the air with her right hand and held it up. "This is an enchanted rose, it will bloom until your Master's twenty-first year, if he can learn to love another and learn their love in return, he will return to his human form as will you all, if the Prince fails to do so he will be doomed to remain a beast forever and you all will be trapped as objects."

The Enchantress appropriated a large glass dome and a walking table from thin air, she placed the hovering, glowing rose above the tabletop and put the glass dome over it. "Take it to the Prince's chambers in the West Wing," she ordered, the table bowed its legs and rushed away up towards the stairs.

The Enchantress regarded them all gravely, "in pity I have had for you servants you will not age. If the spell is broken you will be the same as you were before, I will not rob you of the time spent as objects as opposed to your Masters time spent as a Beast. You must also know this Prince Adam," she folded her hands into her long, bell-shaped sleeves.

"The spell works like this, if anyone, man, woman, girl or boy comes to this castle and you show them hospitality and kindness before your seventeenth year, and they return your kindness, the spell will break. However."

The Enchantress twirled her wand in her hands thoughtfully, "however, if you do not encounter anyone during that time, after your seventeenth birthday only earning the bonding, true love of a woman will break the spell," she said firmly, again waving her wand, the Enchantress created a crystal mirror and showed it to Adam.

"This I also leave you young Prince, this enchanted mirror will show you anywhere in the world you wish to see. Look well upon whatever you seek to see in its glass, for it is a world you can no longer be a part of, I will send it to the table your rose is upon." She snapped her fingers and the mirror vanished into thin air. The Enchantress looked over Prince Adam, who had his head slumped down sadly as he looked over his fur cover form, with a sigh the magical woman stepped over to Adam.

"I pray that you will become a good person one day," she touched him gently on the arm, then with a loud, echoing boom and a final flash of light, the Enchantress was gone and a mighty gust of wind from the open doors blew out all the carefully lit candelabras.

Immediately Adam covered his face and went rushing up the stairs. His new clumsy feet tripping him up halfway up the bottom stairs; the boy-beast struggled his mighty bulk back to his feet and continued his run towards the West Wing.

_This is not happening_, Adam thought in panic, his heart thumping in his chest as he knocked over vases, and the tables they were perched on, in his harried state of getting to his chambers. _This is not happening, it is all a dream; just like the dreams I had when I was younger...yes that's all it is. I will lay down on my bed and this will all be gone in the morning._

He pulled open the doors of the Master bedchamber and slammed them hard behind him, only sparing a passing glance at the glowing rose and shimmering mirror out near the balcony. But upon moving closer to the objects, Adam realised it did all feel so real; the rose was glowing brighter than anything he'd ever seen.

Glancing over a that horrid portrait on the wall, his face...no longer his face? Adam didn't know, reaching over with his sharp claws he slashed the delicately detailed painting, tearing at the canvas and leaving only shredded remains...like what remained of himself.

Adam ran his clawed paws over his face and growled, the sound causing a rumbling in his throat. _What if this isn't a dream?_

Leaning back his head the boy-beast let out a terrifying loud, pained roar, coupled with fear and loneliness, that shattered the fine glass objects in his chamber.

How could anyone learn to love this hideous form he could be trapped in?

Whom could ever learn to love what he was...a _Beast_.

* * *

I'll clear up a little bit of what I've done here in this the third chapter, (_"...but she won't discover that it's him, till chapter three..."_) in regards to the transformation of Adam to the Beast.

**1.** I have set it on Christmas Eve, but this is where most of the similarity to _BatB Enchanted Christmas_ ends, BatB EC is badly written and animated, but the appearance of Adam as a boy I like very much so feel free to see him like that. My biggest argument is them giving out presents on Christmas Eve (i.e the book they give Adam,) that is an American custom, not French. As with the rest of Europe and Australia, tradition dictates presents are given on Christmas Day, it goes back well over a thousand years so I don't buy this version of events.

**2.** I was originally going to set this on the Feast of Saint Stephen, (Dec 27) as that is a very old traditional day in Europe when gifts are given to the poor, however yet again it is a custom not many know of in the rest of the world nowadays (it is mentioned in the Christmas Carol of _Good King Wenceslas_, which is my favourite,) so I might of confused some people, so for that sake alone I changed it to Christmas Eve.

**3.** The carol the children are singing is called _Trois anges sont venus ce soir, _(Three Angels came tonight,) it is a period perfect carol, mentioning Queen Marie Antoinette ( _...and the third had in hand, a very flowery robe of pearls, gold, and jasmine, like Madame Marie has...)_ Beautiful carol, see if you can find it on youtube, (again with the references to both the angels of the castle and the upcoming French revolution.)

**4.** The clause I've mentioned with the Enchantress saying that if after his seventeenth year Adam hadn't transformed it must be a young woman he falls in love with and in turn falls in love with him, is something that I've been dwelling on, in the opening prologue of BatB they say he has to love someone and earned their love in return. It does not specify man/woman/animal/mineral etc., so when later Lumière excitedly exclaims when Belle is in the castle that she has come to break the spell, I get the feeling there was a lot more to the curse then what is mentioned in the movie.

So my theory is anyone Adam let into his castle and showed kindness too and earned their love in return, could have broken the spell, but when he grew to the age of manhood and the longer he stays a beast, the harder it is to break the spell, thus only the true love between a man and a woman can break the spell in that case. Seventeen was the average marriageable age of nobles in those days, (I say _average_, because they could get engaged at any age and some girls were married at fourteen/fifteen,) so I thought it the best age.

**5.** Adam's name, I've mentioned this on the forums, but Adam was in use as a French name since at least the middle ages, so to all those who complain it isn't French enough:

Quoted from behindthename. com:

**ADAM**

**Gender:** Masculine

**Usage:** English, **French**, German, Dutch, Polish, Czech, Slovak, Russian, Ukrainian, Romanian, Hebrew, Arabic, Biblical, Biblical Latin, Biblical Greek, Biblical Hebrew

This is the Hebrew word for "man". It could be ultimately derived from Hebrew _אדם __('adam)_ meaning "to be red", referring to the ruddy colour of human skin, or from Akkadian _adamu_ meaning "to make". According to Genesis in the Old Testament Adam was created from the earth by God (there is a word play on Hebrew _אֲדָמָה __('adamah)_ "earth").

_**Adam**_ has been common since the **Middle Ages**.

That's all I have to clarify, I think, if you'd like to leave a review or want me to clear up anything else, let me know. Chapter four will be up as soon as possible, thank-you.


	4. 1781 x 1790 A cruce salus

**My thanks to all my reviewers, chapter four is more of an interlude, setting the scene for the beginning of the **_**Beauty and The Beast **_**movie, exploring emotions and showing how removed from the world the castle had become. **

[ Note: There is a fantastic series of comic books Marvel released full of stories from before and during B&TB written in the early nineties (yes I'm that old :P,) its well worth seeking them out because I've read them all and they're really good for getting a feel of the castle and the unseen inhabitants, also there are some wonderful stories of what life was like during the last few years Adam's parents were alive and also just before the curse, some of it is a little dated or non canon, overall they're worth a good read. You can find them online in some very nice scanned forms, so if you're interested go, find, I promise this story will still be here when you come back. ;) ]

* * *

**Chapter Four.**

* * *

**T**here was a loud tapping sound on his chamber doors.

Adam rolled over and blinked his eyes, he raised his hand to rub his eyes and saw the paw that had replaced his human hand, tossing his hand away from his face, the Prince thumped his head back on his pillows and surveyed the room he had destroyed in his fury last night.

It hadn't been a dream, he thought as his heart pounded in his chest in panic, it was real...she had been real. This curse...the whole household...

"_Master please, open the door, you've been in there a night and a day!_" Lumière called out.

Adam folded his arms, looking aside at the glowing rose he remembered the sight of his servants transformed into inanimate objects, but enchanted so they could speak and move.

It was mind boggling, all logic and everything the young Prince had been taught said that magical beings, (witches, goblins, faeries Enchanters and _Enchantresses _) should not exist. That they were only myths and superstitious nonsense. But it was grimly apparent that his tutors had been sadly mistaken.

Adam snarled, he hoped they'd been turned into books.

_Boring_ books, none of the exciting ones Christine used to read to him.

He also hoped they gathered a lot of dust, like the rest of the books in his father's huge library had been doing.

"Y_our highness, please, you must eat something and_..." Lumière stopped mid-sentence.

Adam raised his eyebrows and rolled over on his side to direct his question, "and what?"

Still there was no reply and the boy-beast stomped across his large chamber, stumbling slightly on his new, huge limbs; knocking the broken wooden objects and scattered pieces of other items out of the way to reach the door, the Prince reached up to pull down the handle of the left door and opened it slightly.

Forgetting just how small his maître d' had become, the open gap was enough for the slender candelabra to squeeze his way inside before Adam had slammed the door shut seeing no-one outside.

Lumière lit up his candlesticks and tried to smile up his Master, who had caught sight of the glow and was now staring down at him angrily.

The maître d' opened his mouth to say something comfortingly, but Adam just growled before he could say a word, and marched away. Knocking down another table, the enchanted prince made his way back to his bed and laid back down on top of the covers, pulling a pillow over his massive, furry head.

"_Go away Lumière!_" Adam's muffled growl didn't deter the kindly candelabra, who hopped along on his stand; jumping over splintered table legs and ducking under the broken curtain-rod, scoping out a way to address the Prince.

Quickly working out a way, Lumière jumped up on top of a broken stool and then leapt from it's shredded, blue velvet covered top to one of the side-tables beside the bed.

The maître d' surveyed the huddled, furry mass, and, extinguishing his candlestick hands, he pressed them together and sighed deeply, closing his eyes as he thought of what to say. "Oh come now your highness, it really isn't that bad—"

The pillow was ripped from its position covering Adam's head and flung in Lumière's direction, luckily the candelabra had opened his dark brown eyes just in time and ducked the feathery pillow, only to find a snarling, furry face centimetres from his own; the Prince glaring at him with his huge blue eyes.

"Not that bad? Not that _bad_!Have you looked at me, Lumière? Have you looked at yourself at all?" The beast-boy snapped, throwing his bulky legs, clad in torn breeches, over the edge of the bed, he looked down and turned over his huge paws. "You a candelabra and I...a hideous monster."

In the maître d's waxy face was a look of firmness, but understanding, "I know how you are feeling in despair Master, but remember that this spell can be broken. There is a chance for us all to be human again," he said comfortingly.

Adam rolled his blue eyes and stood up, walking over to the glowing rose.

"Yes, I heard what that witch said," he snapped at Lumière and rested his paw on top of the glass dome casing, looking solemnly at the glowing rose. "But I have looked out into my grounds and seen no human, the black forest is surrounded by a heavy mist, and we are far from the nearest village."

Adam turned around and rubbed his face, "it could be months, years...and what about what else she said? After I turn seventeen only a young woman could break the curse," he looked confused as he rested his paws on the edge of the table.

"What did she mean by bonding, true love?"

Despite the growl in the voice, Lumière could still hear his young master's unquestionable naïveté in the matter of the ways of life, they were all to blame for his spoilt nature and lack of morals.

"Well, Master, please sit down. I promised to talk to you a little about the facts of life, and it might put the Enchantress words into a—" he waved his hands. "—a better perspective for yourself."

Adam walked back to the bed and sat down on the edge facing Lumière.

The maître d' took a deep breath and patiently began to explain about men and women; how bodies changed as they grew to adulthood and how babies were created, (the young Prince's eyes grew a little larger after every part,) about courting ladies and...

"...l'amour. Oui, _the_ love. The one you will meet that turns your head and your whole world upside down, you feel it right in your heart that they are the missing part of you," Lumière said wisely, a soft smile on his face.

"You could not imagine spending one moment away from their side, you feel like you've never felt before—"

Prince Adam let out an angry growl suddenly and got to his feet, "it is pointless nonsense to speak of such things to me you silly candlestick!" He turned on his heel and began to pace. "Who could fall in love with such a face as mine? It will most likely grow even larger and uglier as I grow...I fear I will be trapped forever, no girl would ever..."

Lumière hopped off of the side-table and followed his master's movement out onto the balcony, jumping up onto the stone railing he called out over the Prince's mumblings, "your highness, I think you misjudge the mind of the fairer sex. Women are not commonly deceived by outwards appearances.

"oui there are shallow mademoiselles and madames as there are the shallow amongst our sex. But the very best of women, (and I have known a few,) can see straight into a person's heart and soul." He assured Adam, who stopped his pacing for a moment.

"There are?"

The servant inclined his head with much wisdom on the subject, "women love kind, gentle words, dashing manners and someone whom they can talk too. Of course it never hurts to be bold and open about your feelings," he smirked.

Adam snarled in Lumière's direction, and the force of it blew out the candelabra's flames.

Lumière quickly improvised his fear with a bow, "err...will you come down for dinner, Master Adam?" the Prince shook his head.

"No, you may bring me something though. Lumière?" Adam added as the maître d' hopped off of the railing and back into the master chambers.

"Oui, your highness?" Lumière inquired, peering around the broken, purple drapes with a cautious smile.

"Is what I've seen from my balcony true, that the entire statues on the castle have been changed from angels to gargoyles?"

Lumière stepped out from behind the drapes and nodded sadly, "oui, all the statues have changed, most of the statues inside look like beasts, except," he paused, looking down at the polished stone ground. "Except for the busts and statues of your relatives, they are just the same...even yours Master Adam."

There was a low growl from the boy-beast as he continued his pacing, this time switching to four paws like a lion caged, "and all the servants? There is not one human left in the castle or the grounds?" The Prince demanded, Lumière shook his head again. "Everyone...the children?"

"Teacups. Mrs Potts is looking after all of them as some of their parents have not the ability to leave the rooms they're in, wardrobes, cabinets...the large mirror in your dressing room that was one of your dressers. Michel is a coat-rack as are several other of your grooming staff, I can send him to you tomorrow morning—"

Adam growled, "that is a useless task, I can dress myself. I discovered my clothing has also been changed to fit my size and I do not need him any time soon to lay out fine clothes or tend my hair, tell him to prepare a bath in the morning and nothing more," he snapped.

Lumière bowed and turned to leave again.

"And Lumière?"

"Oui, Master Adam?"

The enchanted Prince stood back up and looked down at his servant with a serious expression, "tell everyone from now on I shall only respond to Master, your highness,your grace, or sire. I do no longer wish to be referred to as Adam in any form. I am a beast, not a human. In fact, I am Beast and nothing more till this curse is done with."

Lumière nodded sadly, he knew there would be no point in arguing with the boy in this upset state, "oui, your highness," he bowed again and left quickly.

Beast growled low in his throat and lent his powerful arms over the railings, gazing out into the twilight he narrowed his eyes as he thought on all of what his maître d' had said. Beast knew that if he had remained human that in a few years he would be engaged to either one of the French, Austrian (or other foreign Princesses,) that Cogsworth would have made a list of to inquire on his Master's behalf.

The Beast Prince let out a choking half-laugh.

_What fair Princess or noblewoman would have me now for a husband? How many Princesses, duchesses and Lady's would find their way to a hidden castle and would fall in love with a monster?_

Beast suddenly set his mouth in a firm line, the Enchantress had appeared kind in the end.

Perhaps she would see that a young woman found her way here...or anyone for that matter before he turned seventeen...

_**Six Years later...**_

_~Interlude~_

_Gascogne, France Village de Tarbes__1787 _

The slender, brunette teen nervously played with the right of her two braids, her light brown eyes surveyed the tiny, provincial village from her vantage point, sitting beside her father on the large cart carrying all their possessions.

The cart was being pulled diligently by the patient Phillipe, who was plodding along at a quick trot, shaking his blond mane every so often, it was just an hour past the dawning of the day.

The girl sighed and looked up at the blue skies, everything smelt so clean and fresh here, but it wasn't Paris. There were no magnificent libraries, or museums or gardens; but there was a lot of open spaces, and the glorious Pyrenees mountains glittering with sill un-melted snow in this early spring weather.

It was still quite crisp, Belle Chérie Blancard pulled her light cloak tighter around herself and looked over at her father, who looked relieved at they crossed the small stone bridge leading into the town.

Maurice Blancard then glanced across at his daughter. He passed the reigns to his right hand and squeezed her right hand with his left.

"It is only a temporary stopover, Belle, I didn't want you to be exposed to all that tumult going on in Paris," the merchant-turned-inventor said firmly, his mouth turned serious under his bushy moustache.

"Revolution is not something just to get involved with. We are safe out here, far from any of the bloodshed. One day, if I can make our fortune with one of my inventions, we might move somewhere a little more cultured—"

Belle's demeanour instantly perked up, "Prague? Or Vienna? Or London?" She asked excitedly, grasping her father's arm and smiling brightly, making her father chuckle at her exuberance.

"Oh Papa, what sights! What adventures! And I know you will get one of your inventions just perfect so we can go exploring, how wonderful," Belle kissed her father's plump cheek and looked up at one of the bigger buildings of the village, the tavern.

Following the tavern were a barber, a bakery, a butcher. It was still early morning so fish mongers, fruiterer and other stall sellers were still selling their wares; the people of the village looked up and many a young man's eyes were turned on the cultured beauty, dressed in a simple blue gown and hooded cloak.

"Bonjour," some of the passers by called out.

Maurice and Belle responded in same, the girl was beginning to see just how simple the village was when, just out of the corner of her eye, she saw a wooden sign that made her clasp her hands and tap her father's shoulder anxiously.

"Papa! Papa! A bookseller! What good fortune, can we please stop?" Belle begged, Maurice smiled knowingly and pulled Phillipe to a halt, Maurice jumped off first and offered his hand to his petite daughter.

The fifteen-year-old stepped down and linked her arm in her fathers, "oh I hope they have _Cupid and Psyche_, the copies in Paris were always so expensive." Belle looked down at the basket on her arm, "I only have _Robinson Crusoe_ and a few of Shakespeare," she mentioned sadly.

The bulk of her and her father's book collection had to be sold before they packed up to leave; the young woman shook off her unhappiness when they entered the tiny establishment, and laid eyes the vast array of books.

"It's wonderful!" Belle rushed over to the neatly arranged books on the shelves and studied their spines. "Oh my, _One Thousand and One Nights_, _The Vicar of Wakefield_, oh!" She stood on tip-toe to reach up to a higher level and pulled out a brown bound novel. "Look Papa, _Evelina_!"Belle hugged the book to her chest and was so wrapped up in her discoveries, she didn't hear the merry chuckle behind her.

Maurice turned around to greet the bespectacled bookseller, who was watching the petite girl's joy with amusement, "how do you do sir?"

The bookseller shook the offered hand, "very well Monsieur. You have a proper little bookworm there, I've never seen anyone in this village so passionate about literature, especially a young mademoiselle," he commented. "You are new here, and from Paris I am betting from your accent?"

"Oui, we left because of the revolts going on, I did not want my daughter exposed to that sort of carnage," Maurice explained. As he was conversing with the shopkeeper, the small bell above the door rang out and a tall, broad figure strode in with his handsome, cleft chinned head held high; an expression of natural arrogance played over his strong features.

The bookseller looked over and waved at the strapping, dark haired young man, "bonjour Monsieur Gaston," he said in surprise. Of all the stores in the village, his was the only one Gaston had never stepped over the threshold of before.

Gaston inclined his head, "bonjour," he turned his head to the left to see the petite brunette standing on a ladder with an arm full of books. _A__h, so that must be the new girl LeFou spied coming into town_, he rubbed his shining white teeth with his finger and straightened his shoulders.

_I haven't gotten a glimpse at her face yet, but best be a perfect gentleman_, Gaston strolled over to the girl.

"Can I help you with those mademoiselle?" He inquired smoothly with a deliberate puff of his broad chest.

The young woman distractedly nodded. "Yes, thank-you." She dropped her huge arm full of books in the general direction of the muscular hunter, who caught them with an _ooff._

Then, with an annoyed scowl, Gaston dumped the books on the ground so he could take a good look over this new girl, who spoke with a definite Parisian accent.

His blue eyed features took on a very pleased expression. The girl was picturesque. Her lips full and her delicate features creamy white and perfectly set, her form was petite and in a few years her body would be absolute perfection. _Oh yes, this girl will be my bride._

The graceful girl was worth ten of any other maiden...but what of this obsession with books she seemed to have?

Well, introducing himself should soon get her attention from them and on his perfect, manly form, "I don't think we've been introduced, I'm Gaston de Tueur," Gaston offered his hand to the girl, who finally turned her attention to him and smiled kindly.

"Belle Blancard, it is nice to meet you," Belle tried not to pull a face as the handsome braggart placed a kiss on the back of her hand. She pulled her hand away with a nervous smile and went to go gather up her books, Gaston was quick to gather up some as well, following her over to the bookseller's counter.

"This is my father, Maurice," Belle introduced her faded haired Papa.

Gaston shook the shorter, older man's hand with a charming smile, "a great pleasure Monsieur Maurice, might I compliment you on your beautiful daughter, I hope you are both intending to stay in our humble village," he inquired.

Belle turned around to place her books on the counter, pulling a face as Maurice responded genteelly. "Why yes Monsieur Gaston. We had to leave Paris because of the terrible Revolution..."

Gaston rubbed his chin disinterestedly, _a pacifist obviously, but best to attempt to agree with the father of my future bride_, "oh yes, nasty business that. And _I_ heard its only getting worse...but one could almost say the Royals had it coming..."

Belle looked up from her books, "Monsieur Gaston, are you suggesting that all this carnage and storming of the castles is because the monarchy had it coming? Mon dieu, I hardly see how innocent children caught up in all this are responsible for their families errors!" She piled up some more books as Gaston's mouth hung open in surprise at the girl's strong, proficient speech.

The bookseller smiled a little and helped Belle place the books into her basket, noting down each one in his ledger, "the girl is right. This village was quite devoted to our previous Prince, Prince Christophe of Gascogne. His castle was not far from here—"

Maurice interrupted with a nod of his head, "oh yes. I remember his funeral in Paris. It was one of the saddest events I have ever witnessed," he commented.

Belle could remember only a little of the solemn parade, the glittering carriage covered in dark veils, a little boy with his head down...she realised he had been the stubborn boy she'd spoken to in the park only two days before. Belle remembered how the little Prince had been rude to her, but at the same time he had seemed so... so lonely.

The bookseller continued, "afterwards his son, Prince Adam, ascended the throne, he was a different sort to his father. Standoffish. Always surrounded by guards because of the assassination of his family," he handed Belle back her simple woven basket.

Belle hooked her basket over her slender arm, "does the Prince Adam still come to the village?" the girl wondered if perhaps the little boy she'd met had grown up to be as romantic as the _Prince Charmings_ were described in her novels.

Gaston snorted, "we haven't seen head or tail of him in six years, probably more. The times when he was seen here he was ill-mannered and acted all high and mighty. Good riddance I say!" The braggart had to add his two cents after being quiet for so long; hoping to impress Belle with his words.

But the girl merely raised an eyebrow.

The bookseller took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose,"Gaston is right about the Prince's disappearance. Amongst his very devoted servants were English people, there has been rumours of a revolution for many years; perhaps they escaped with him to England via Spain," he suggested.

"The location of castle, beyond the _Black Forest_, has been surrounded by a thick fog and we think it abandoned. No-one will go near it for fear of Prince Christophe's ghost, still searching for his wife and daughter. Perhaps even calling out for his son, now far across the sea."

Belle's eyes glazed over at the thought, swept up in the poetic words of the bookseller, "how sad, it sounds almost like Shakespeare," she wiped her eyes affectedly.

Gaston strode up to her with a swagger. "Poor Belle. How about I take you to the tavern and show you my hunting trophies? I shot a buck the size of a bear just the other day, his head is going to be mounted on the wall tonight, " he offered her his overly muscular arm, but the brown haired girl was too quick for him and ducked under the offered limb.

"Perhaps another time. I have to help my father unpack, adieu good bookseller, adieu Monsieur Gaston," Belle waved and took her fathers arm, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

"Move quickly Papa, I do not like the way that Gaston's watching me, like I'm another prize for his trophy wall."

-xxx-

_Gascogne, France Château d'démons _1787

Chip looked disbelievingly up at his mother, blinking his shiny eyes as he stood with his brothers, sisters and the other household children on the kitchen table.

"But if its his birthday, Mama, the Master has to celebrate...doesn't he?" The boy-turned-teacup had lost none of his innocent ways, even after six years. The rest of the enchanted servants, gathered in the kitchen in the early morning shook their heads sadly.

Mrs Potts pursed her lips under her spout, it was just as the Enchantress had said, none of them were touched by the years that had past. All the children had the same mindset and mannerisms, none of her older son's voice's had broken.

It was like they were stuck in a perpetual time loop...except in the few glimpses Mrs Potts had of the Master showed that indeed time was passing.

"Not if he doesn't want to son, the Master might be feeling a bit under the weather so to speak—"

"Understandably so, Mrs Potts," Cogsworth spoke up, stepping forward and gesturing with his handle-hands. "We all know that today is the Master's seventeenth birthday, that from now on the spell can only be broken by a young woman," he wrung his hands.

Lumière rested his un-lit candle hand together, looking down sadly, "it has been six years and every birthday I see a little less hope in his eyes," he all but whispered. Babette rested her wooden-handle head atop her lover's as Lumiere looked firmly over at the gathered assemblage.

"We must not let him loose all hope, mes amis! Our only hope to be human again relies on the Master not giving up on a young mademoiselle finding her way here."

Cogsworth leaned towards the maître d', "you have had the you-know-what talk with his highness, haven't you?" He whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

Lumière rolled his eyes to the side to regard the Englishman with a raised brow, smirking inwardly as he watched the mantle-clock majordome squirm; obviously very uncomfortable with the subject.

_Typical English_.

"You know, the talk...blast, what do you French call it ..."

"Oiseaux et les abeilles."

Cogsworth suddenly turned and pointed his left grasping-hand in Lumière's waxy features, "ah ha! You did know what I was talking about, you paraffin headed nitwit," he said louder then he intended.

The enchanted candelabra scowled, "who are you calling a paraffin headed nitwit?"

"You," the majordome replied haughtily, Lumière spun around angrily to face his antagonist.

"_Moi_? You overgrown pocket-watch! En guard!" He lit up his candlesticks and lunged for Cogsworth, the two of them wrestling each other to the the ground, then tumbling off the side of the table onto the floor. Continuing to deal punches and hurl insults at each other in a flurry.

Mrs Potts hopped down to the floor and stomped on her base angrily to get the maître d' and majordome's attention. "Stop that the both of you! Acting like a pair of school-yard boys, you ought to be ashamed," she ordered.

The two servants stopped bickering at the stern teapot's words, but not before Cogsworth pulled Lumière's waxy nose, and the candelabra in turn had set his hand alight.

Mrs Potts sighed as they got to their bases, "now, what were you two arguing about?"

Cogsworth brushed himself off and blew on his scorched left hand affectedly, "we were discussing," he jabbed Lumière in the arm. "If Lumière here had discussed certain things with the Master in regards to young ladies and the delicate matters of—"

Mrs Potts quickly caught on and let out a little steam from her spout, "certain things and delicate matters? Oh, you're being ridiculous Cogsworth! There's nothing to be ashamed about growing up and falling in love with someone, expression of love physically is a beautiful gift, not something to be called 'certain things,' really! Men...

"I hope you did talk with the Master, Lumière, he'd certainly get the wrong impression from Cogsworth's fumblings about 'delicate matters,' " the head maid scolded the blushing mantle-clock.

"Oui Mrs Potts. I discussed it at length with him soon after the transformation," Lumière explained, Babette floated down to join him. He absently put his arm around her and the feather duster gave him a quick, comforting kiss on the cheek.

Mrs Potts nodded, "yes, perhaps we should bring the Master something to eat and see how he is feeling, come along Chip," she called up. Her youngest son was the only one of the children who could be persuaded to be used as a teacup by the Master.

Mainly because the little boy was still in awe of the Prince and the other children were more petrified of his temper then his outward appearance...frankly so were the rest of the staff.

Chip hopped onto the trolley and Mrs Potts hopped up as well, Chef Bouche was barking orders at his staff who were now serving-ware.

"Gently with the _Le petit déjeuner_, mon Dieu! If I had legs I'd chase you all down and give you a hiding!" The hot tempered chef snapped at them, when the trolley was finally laden.

The enchanted trolley, with Mrs Potts and Chip aboard, was followed by Lumière and Cogsworth, as it rolled out of the kitchen door.

-xxx-

Beast studied his paws, they were indeed larger.

Looking into the last unbroken mirror in his master chambers Beast let out a heavy sigh.

His arms were gaining bulk like the rest of his fur clad body; and he had shot up greatly in height, he estimated he was possibly over six feet now.

Placing his left paw over his face, Beast let out an angry snarl and smashed the mirror into a million pieces with his other fist. He ignored the blood pouring down his right paw and fell to the ground in a huddle heap, breathing in and out heavily in unbelievable mental anguish.

It was like wearing a huge costume one couldn't get off. Inside, Beast felt like the young man he should be on his seventeenth birthday.

Mentally perhaps he was human, but little had changed in Beast's appearance since the transformation, except he was much bigger and strange instincts were beginning to flood his already tortured mind.

Primarily a lust for blood and raw meat that was becoming increasingly hard to control.

Everything was becoming oddly normal, his voice had broken a few years ago and had recently settled into a soft baritone, not surprisingly the softness was non existent when Beast was yelling at his idiotic servants.

(In fact his voice had first broken, four years ago, when Cogsworth had tried to suggest perhaps they could kidnap someone from the village. Beast had yelled out his displeasure, citing that the Enchantress might make all this worse if they didn't obey her words. The Prince's voice had dropped dropped a couple of octaves; and made an even more vicious sound as he threw every object at hand at the panicked mantle-clock, who actually dived out of the chamber doors.)

Even then if Beast did speak gently, (a rarity,) there was always a growl behind it to frighten away any pleasantness. Even in his vocal speech, Beast was becoming a monster. He licked at his injured paw and looked over at that infernal, glowing rose.

Maybe he could risk destroying the blasted thing and ending his miserable existence...

There was a loud knocking on the doors, Beast stroked the glass dome with his paws thoughtfully. He wasn't in the mood to tell whomever it was to go away; he'd never liked to be alone on his birthday. (Although who knew what the next year would bring? Perhaps he would prefer to be alone then.)

Forgetting about his injured paw, Beast raised his head slightly. "Enter," he called out.

There was a soft creek and then the trundling sound of a kitchen trolley.

Looking over his shoulder Beast saw the trolley, carrying Mrs Potts and Chip, carefully winding around the broken furniture; and trailing after the carved wooden trolley were Cogsworth and Lumière.

Mrs Potts pulled to a halt just below the velvet stairs leading to the area before the balcony, where the rose stand rested. "Good morning Master. Would you like something to drink?"

Beast gave a small nod and stood by awkwardly as Mrs Potts poured some tea into Chip, the first year he'd abhorred using his former servants as everyday objects. (Lumière as a candelabra or Mrs Potts, Chip and other objects to eat from,) but now he just accepted it as calmly as possible.

The enchanted prince reached over to pick up Chip and took a tentative sip from the teacup.

"A special breakfast for you today, Master—" Lumière was cut off with a growl from his Master who tossed Chip back onto the cart. Doing so a little harder then was intended and the boy-turned-teacup spun around in circles, before finally halting and shaking himself out of his dizziness.

"Special for what?" Beast demanded, looking down at his maître d' who in turn looked down at the floor.

Cogsworth peered out from behind a piece of drapery fabric, "well, sire," he began bravely. "It is the occasion of your birthday," the mantle clock ventured uncertainly.

Beast barked out an unhappy laugh and folded his arms, turning around, his cloak flying out behind him, he began to stroke the glass dome again.

"At that is a special occasion? This is all a special occasion?" Beast turned back around and eyed them all. "It's been six years. Six years I've been stuck this way, now only a woman can break the spell and she has to fall in love with this?" He gestured to himself and then waved his massive arms.

"There are only four more years before we are trapped like this forever. And you all think I want to celebrate my birthday?" He roared, the servants started to back away.

"Master...your hand...it's bleeding!" Mrs Potts suddenly exclaimed.

Beast looked down at his forgotten paw and shook his head.

"Please let us tend to it. Lumière, go fetch some bandages, Cogsworth get some hot water and a balm; Chip, you go with them. I'll stay with the Master," Mrs Potts ordered firmly.

Chip hopped off of the trolley and went bouncing after Cogsworth and Lumière.

"Now sit down somewhere Master..."

Beast growled a little and the stout teapot narrowed her brow. That look he could remember from his earliest days in the nursery that said she was not to be trifled with hadn't changed with her enchantment.

The prince let out a soft sigh of reluctance and marched over to the only unbroken plush chair in the room. It had been his father's reading chair.

His sister had called it that. _Père's_ _L__ecture de la chaise._

For whenever their father had come back from his travels, he would call them into the master chambers to talk and always the plush velvet chair would be beside the fireplace; winter through to summer.

A favourite novel of Christophe's, (his only escape from his diplomatic and tactical work,) would be atop the right armrest. If the Prince wasn't tired, he'd sit his two children down on the exotic carpet in front of him and read to them in his deep, soothing voice.

Beast shut his eyes. It was one of the only good memories of his father he had.

Christophe's disapproving face appeared in his mind's eye and Beast shook his head to get rid of the thought of what his father would think of his condition. Upon opening back up his startling blue eyes, he watched as Mrs Potts hopped up on the bed beside him and looked over him quietly.

"Master...?"

"Not now, Mrs Potts," Beast murmured.

The teapot chewed on her lower lip and just continued to sit quietly with her Master and looked over the bleeding paw with a keen eye for any shards of glass, but Mrs Potts could see none and so she tried again.

"Master, please, I know you are upset and this is an important turning point for your," she cleared her throat and tried to speak a little plainer. "Condition. But we are all here for you, don't hide away up here like you are a bat in an attic; and if you need to talk..."

Beast shook his head, "I said not now!" He paused. "Is it strange?"

Mrs Potts blinked her eyes up at the sad creature whose tone had soften considerably. "What is strange, Master?"

"That you see me age but nothing else change," he replied slowly, tersely looking down at his feet.

The head maid looked to the side, "everything about this seems a little strange, but you must not give up hope Master, it will turn out all right," Mrs Potts ventured soothingly.

Beast shook his massive head and the teapot hopped down to the ground so she could look up into his soft eyes, the only remaining part of his humanity physically.

"It will, you just have measure patience and leave the rest up to providence, the Enchantress said the spell could be broken—"

"Could be...could be..." Beast placed his face in his paws. "I don't know how much longer I can do this, I only seem to get larger and more hideous," he growled and reached across the dresser for his golden music box. The little enchanted object opened up his tiny eyes and let out a mewing sound of greeting. "Play."

Mrs Potts stomped on the floor with her base, "Master..." she hated when he would have his music blaring to drown out anything they would try to talk to him about. The little music box object Jacques, (whom was the son of Michel and had inherited his father's gift for music,) was the only thing that soothed the Beast savagery...ironic as it was.

The little jewelled box opened its mouth began to play _Greensleeves_, the musical notes swirling and delicately drowning out Mrs Potts protests as Beast floated away from all this madness.

Seeing the beaches in the South of France where he, his mother and his sister would ride little grey donkeys; the fabulous gardens of Versailles...the quiet fields in the heart of the mountains...he'd taken it all for granted.

But there was still a firm stubbornness in Beast and a coldness he could not easily escape. The lusts in his mind and body would interchange rapidly.

The lust for blood and a fresh kill was lurking in the darkness of the form he had assumed.

Then there were the thoughts of women...although he had not seen a human form in six years there was a longing and need for...

Beast sighed heavily. Those things weren't possible in this form even if they were and the woman was willing...he shuddered.

It wasn't something the prince wished to imagine at all. He didn't know who would have a mind as grotesque as that.

-xxx-

_~The years were rolling by in one merged blur, day after day there seemed to be no different event._

_That which had been strange had become mediocrity, an example of a commonplace scenario was the darkness that had settled on the once fair castle and grounds; becoming almost like a thick, blanketing fog. Threatening to choke the very last little bit of life that existed within. _

_Beast refused to talk to anyone. Even Lumière was barred from his confidences and Michel's toiletries were turned away. _

_The staff would only see their prince occasionally marching around the castle, ignoring them and refusing food because, (as a terrified Lumière and Cogsworth discovered one day nine years into the curse,) he'd begun to hunt like a wild creature, akin to a wolf or lion..._

_The sight of their Master, face and paws covered in blood with a raw corpse of a deer slung over his massive shoulders as he marched in through the main doors and up the staircase; sent poor Lumière into a stupor as Beast dragged the carcass away towards his chambers, and Cogsworth fainted dead-away._

_Mrs Potts began to weep as the news was delivered to her after Lumière dragged Cogsworth into the kitchen. And the Chef Bouche began to throw objects in his frustration and disgust, some of them his serving staff...~ _

Gascogne, France Château d'démons 1790

"I delivered that boy. I helped bring him into this world and I helped raise him, his dear Maman... I've failed her and Prince Christophe." Mrs Potts strong conduct was wavering in her heartache. "We are all to blame if he runs off into the forest and lives like a...a—"

"A beast?" a terrifying low growl came from the kitchen door and the Master stood there. Covered in blood and eyeing off his terrified servants with his deep blue eyes.

The teacups in the cupboard pulled the door shut hard and looked out in fear; the other objects darted behind larger objects or behind Chef Bouche.

Beast's closest servants stood petrified, gazing up at the looming figure. "Well it is nice to know my loyal servants talk about me behind my back like this!" His spoilt personality had not changed with the years. The anger over his curse had made his unkind, cold demeanour remain deeply embedded.

"Master, we all love you and are concerned about your recent..." Lumière waved his candlestick hands. "...diet."

Beast growled low and the force blew out his maître d's flames.

"What I do and what I eat is none of your concern. I am the Master here. If I wish to hunt I will hunt; and I will hear no more of this talking and sneaking behind my back. _Understand_!" The last word was roared out so loudly that everything shook, and servants all bowed low to avoid upsetting their Master further.

After an angry snort, there was a loud bang as the kitchen door closed hard and items were knocked to the floor. Mrs Potts hopped away to the cupboard to comfort the children as Cogsworth brushed off the flour from himself, and Lumière did likewise from his metal frame.

"Well, that did not go well, no?"

Cogsworth sighed, "no it did not," he replied haughtily. "I fear we are all doomed. Farewell for the night, I'm...going to go to bed," he informed them with an sigh, shaking off the last of the flour and walking towards the door.

Lumière reignited his flames and nodded following after. "A good idea, but I think I'm going to go to the chapel and pray before I do also," he informed his clock-faced companion.

Cogsworth nodded sympathetically and waved his farewell as they slipped out of the door and headed in different directions.

Hopping along in the direction of the chapel, Lumière was always thankful for his faith in these darkest hours. Prayer was a way of keeping sane, his mother, bless her soul, had always told him praying to God is the best that a man or woman could do in their life.

It was a way of being close to the creator and his eternal blessings.

Pushing open the door to the chapel, (that was always kept ajar for easy access, like most of the doors in the castle nowadays.) Lumière hopped across the narthex; moving into the nave and down the aisle past the pews, heading towards the lectern where the Priest, Father Notre, had been turned into a bible and was chanting a psalm.

The monks and choir, whom had been turned into prayer books and psalm books respectively, were chanting in response

_"Probasti cor meum visitasti nocte igne me examinasti et non est inventa in me iniquitas..."_ (Thou hast proved my heart, and visited it by night, thou hast tried me by fire: and iniquity hath not been found in me...)

Lumière smiled at the irony a little, gazing up at chancel lit up by two large candles. The light from them were playing across the stained glass windows, the high alter was still well kept in the sanctuary and it's candles were always lit.

The various small chantry alcoves of the Gascogne nobility had their candles lit as well. Fresh flowers adorned the stained-glass windows. The newest window was of Prince Christophe, dressed in magnificent golden clothing and ceremonial breastplate; his hands across his chest and perfectly designed eyes staring out.

(Adam had refused to let ones be built for his mother and sister, claiming he believed Capitaine Amable was right. But Lumière had a feeling his highness _did_ believe them dead, but felt it too painful to have chantries made for his beloved mother and sister.)

Hopping over in the direction of Christophe's, Lumière gazed up into the solemn, lead-light features. During the day they seemed less haunting. At night, however, Christophe appeared to be judging him with sorrow for what had happened to his son.

_"Ego clamavi quoniam exaudisti me Deus inclina aurem tuam mihi et exaudi verba mea..." _(I have cried to thee, for thou, O God, hast heard me: O incline thy ear unto me, and hear my words...)

Lumière bounced from the velvet kneeling cushion to the rows of candles, finding an unlit candle he ignited his left candle and lit the candle, making the sign of the cross and bowing his head low.

"I ask through the intercession of the Lord and all the angels, saints and all that are holy of God, and you Prince Christophe, watch over your son, now in this darkest hour, watch over us all..." the maître d' murmured his prayer. His praying was suddenly interrupted by a loud bang from one of the side doors.

It was the Master.

The Priest and assemblage stopped, but the Beast waved his hand, "continue," he barked, immediately Father Notre lead them into the next psalm.

_"Psalmus David priusquam liniretur Dominus inluminatio mea et salus mea quem timebo Dominus protector vitae meae a quo trepidabo." _(The psalm of David before he was anointed. The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the protector of my life: of whom shall I be afraid?) The Priest introduced.

Using that moment as distraction, Lumière extinguished his flames and darted behind one of the enormous statues beside the chantry of Prince Christophe; which was also the most beautiful sculpture in the chapel, _St Martin of Tours _astride his horse. The saint's sword raised in the act of splitting his fine cloak for the poor beggar at his feet.

Lumiere peered around the enormous leg of the horse to look on as his Master turned from watching the singing and had turned his attention to the row of chantries; his head bowed as he went to his father's alcove, kneeling down hard on the velvet cushions.

Beast pressed his paws to his face, lowering them after a moment and resting them on the railing, "I haven't been here in years," the Prince murmured. "I...I'm not really sure what I want to ask of you," he fiddled with his fingers and thumped his head on the railing.

"Oh I don't know what I'm doing here," Beast complained, running his hand through his mane in frustration.

He almost got to his feet, but stopped mid way and knelt back down. "No. No I—I'm losing my mind, I feel nothing sometimes. I go into a fury and I...I only have blood on my mind, I want to tear apart the hide of a deer and run through the forest without any boundaries... I'm a monster," Beast spat softly, looking up at his father's image with glassy eyes.

"Père...I don't want my curse to continue. Please, I ask for you to help me, send a good, kind girl here; I know I don't say it enough but...I don't want the servants to suffer this anymore."

Lumière lifted his left candlestick to wipe away a tear from his eye, the plain emotion from his Master was heart-wrenching. The maître d' knew how Beast longed to put his words better, but it was what was left unsaid that had the greatest impact.

Beast got to his feet slowly and turned, his cape whipping out behind him as he marched away; his face set into a stoic expression to mask his emotions from the holy assemblage as he made his way back to the side door leading to his chambers.

_"Dum adpropiant super me nocentes ut edant carnes meas qui tribulant me et inimici mei ipsi infirmati sunt et ceciderunt," _(Whilst the wicked draw near against me, to eat my flesh. My enemies that trouble me, have themselves been weakened, and have fallen.)

Lumière hopped out from behind the statue and went back over to the chantry of Prince Christophe, bowing his head he half-smiled.

"Let Prince Adam's prayer be mine also. Amen."

* * *

Notes:

**Chantry**: (from WIKI,) _**Chantry**__ is the English term for the establishment of an institutional chapel on private land or within a greater church, where a priest would celebrate mass. The same term is also used for the endowment itself. The word derives from the Latin cantaria, meaning 'licence to sing mass'. The French term for this commemorative institution is a chapellenie. _

They can also be a small alcove within a private chapel, think of them like a memorial, they have a mass for the dead on their anniversary.

**A very humble chapter, I'm sorry this one took a while, but there was a lot of research involved and uni work,lots and lots of uni work, I hope you enjoyed it's humbleness and please, leave a review if you like.**


	5. 1791 x La Belle et la Bête

My thanks to my reviewers, and I'll answer a few questions brought up in the reviews.

Yes I am going to continue this story as a far as I possibly can after the movie, I feel there is a lot you can do with the characters, especially setting up this story post-revolution and I have a few things planned, possibly a sequel, but it all depends on how well this story is received and judging by the amount of people that have read and haven't left a review I have mixed feelings, but all you wonderful people who have reviewed definitely deserve more, so I shall do my best.

**Hidden in the fourth wall: **You did see antlers in the West Wing, bravo! Not a lot of people notice and its often overlooked, (and not something if you watch it with young children you should point out, they only have eyes for what Belle is doing so I wouldn't worry, its mostly for the adult audience's benefit and a touch of Gothic horror, very cool of the Disney artists,) if you check out the special features on the DVD and also a few interviews online (try youtube,) with both Don Hahn and Glen Keane, they both mention Beast had started hunting and becoming gradually more Beast-like and would have been completely gone if Belle hadn't shown up when she did! (As an adult viewer you come to appreciate so much more the amount of effort and research in this movie.)

**gossamerwings42**: Don't worry, we might be a small minority that prefer Adam as the Prince and not as the Beast but gosh-darnit we've got our reasons. :) He was my first crush as a little girl and I have such a love of art and the human form thanks to Glen Keane's epic drawing which looks more like Classical/Michelangelo/Rodin style sculpture, besides...I find those who wanted poor Adam to stay as a Beast a little weird...sure he was cuddly but...no...just...no.

Thank-you so much everyone for the praise...really I just have a blast writing anything but this genre is a particular favourite.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

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Gascogne, France, Château d'démons 1791

**L**umière polished the mirror in the foyer to a gleaming sheen...well rather the area in front of his handsome...well handsomely carved wax features. Beaming into the mirror he wiped a drop of melting wax into a debonair coif style and looked over at where he had been successfully ignoring Cogsworth, (who was pacing up and down beside him,) and his blabbering.

Shaking his flaming head, the maître d' reluctantly turned around from his preening to take notice of the mantle-clock marching across the hall table they were atop of, who was once again in one of his rants about the Master.

"...and I really do think that it is time for us to confront the Master about..."

"Confront me about what?" A growling baritone interrupted and a dark shadow loomed over the both of them.

Looking up Cogsworth tried to smile at the half-snarling features of the Beast, who's intense blue gaze seemed to be becoming more and more red-rimmed like a uncontrollable wild animal every moment the majordome looked in them.

"Oh, ah...yes...yes Master there is something Lumière," Cogsworth grabbed his fellow servant's arm and pushed the narrow eyed candelabra forward. "And...I, wish to discuss with you..."

Lumière folded his arms, "what are you bringing me into this for? I believe it was you, Cogsworth, who wished to address the Master about something," he stepped back and shoved Cogsworth forward. The Beast eyed them both dangerously and the mantle-clock began to shiver.

"Ah...oh no, no, you most definitely needed to say something to the Master," the majordome began tugging on Lumière's arm and the maître d' pulled back and promptly burnt Cogsworth's grasping hand and the mantle clock yelped and began blowing on his hand. "Ouch! That hurt you flaming imbecile!"

There was an annoyed grunt from their Master, "as amusing as you two are, I have to go hunt. I'll deal with the both of you when I return," Beast snarled and marched away, the threat lingering in the air as the servants watched their Master lop away on all fours.

Lumière folded his arms and looked out of the corner of his eyes, "nice going _Big Ben_," he sarcastically addressed Cogsworth, who was wiping his forehead in relief, for the moment.

"Well you certainly didn't help! Out hunting again...and did you notice he's rushing about on all fours more often now? And this angry, exhausted manner of addressing everyone, sometimes I don't know _what_ he needs anymore..."

There was a raised brow from Lumière, "I think _I_ know what he needs, the love of a good mademoiselle," he pointed out. "He is nearly twenty-one and on top of all that, this curse is starting to eat him from the inside. You've seen it yourself in his eyes, haven't you? Don't they appear a little more red, rather than blue, lately?"

Cogsworth nodded, "you're probably right my friend. But don't put it so bluntly to the Master if you raise the subject! All you French think about is food and making love—"

"Ha! The Master _is_ fully French, at least on his father's side, and as for his mother being half-Austrian, the Austrians are much like us. There is none of your English prudery in his highness at all," Lumière huffed.

Cogsworth folded his arms and turned aside."Well, if _you_ weren't so wrapped up in the _honour_ of your silly Babette, you never would have begged the Master to do what should have been her job that night of the curse..."

The candelabra turned on him with an outraged growl, "you are blaming my Babette on this? The Enchantress had been watching the Master a long time, she would have found some way to place this curse upon him," he pointed out.

Cogsworth reluctantly nodded in agreement with his fellow servant. "I am sincerely tired of you being right, but you are right," he grudgingly conceded.

Lumière inclined his head and went back to his preening in the mirror, looking over his features he looked down at his candlestick hands. "Cogsworth, do you still remember what it is like to have hands? Sometimes I feel like I'm forgetting."

"Well I have four, if you include what I'm left for grasping with and the two on my face," the majordome tried to lighten the mood as he folded his aforementioned grasping appendages behind his back. Lumière chuckled a little.

"I'd quite forgotten you had a sense of humour, mon ami, a dry one, but a sense of humour nevertheless, no?"

Cogsworth nodded his head and closed his eyes, "oui, my good Lumière. Perhaps it is due to my waning optimism of this situation, ten years is a long time."

-xxx-

Beast crouched down low, his ears flat against his head. One of his front paws raised in anticipation as he stopped in his stalking, hiding deep within the bushes and brambles; his eyes locked forward on the small doe, grazing peacefully on the late-autumn grass in the open glen, at the sight the enchanted Prince's fur tingled with anticipation.

Both his paws now in the undergrowth, he tapped his claws against the ground, eager to make short work of his prey. Beast's eyes became half-lidded in his focus, his breathing came in short bursts.

He could almost hear the pulse of the flighty deer as she nipped at the brown grass.

Lowering himself further to the ground, Beast prepared to spring out and conquer his prey, but as he rose he saw the doe had raised her head; her large ears up and her small, black nose twitching as she caught his sent. Beast thought he'd try for the spindly creature at any rate and lunged out from his hiding.

The deer leapt into the air and narrowly avoided the huge, furry arm waiting to knock her to the ground and break her neck. She bounded out of the glen and into the thicket.

Beast let out a frustrated roar and pounded the ground, flinging his cloak behind him and glaring about the empty glen. It was getting dark and rain was already beginning to pour down. Beast ran his hand over his head and stomped his foot. He supposed he'd just have to eat whatever pretty, unappetizing food Chef Bouche had yet again cooked in an effort, (probably on behalf of Mrs Potts,) to stop him hunting.

The truth was, Beast hated hunting. However it was the only way to calm his lust for blood and appetite for large amounts of raw flesh.

He remembered the first time he'd tried it, just a little pigeon. Harmless act really. But the taste of fresh blood and the rush from the motion of killing the creature had soothed the enchanted Prince's anguished thoughts for a brief moment.

Making his way back out of the woods and heading towards his balcony, Beast climbed up the side of the castle and swung himself onto the balcony, gazing over his massive shoulder at the lightning crashing down over the mountains; and the loud sound of rolling thunder pounded his sensitive ears. Beast growled in annoyance.

It was as if the weather had been matching itself to his mood lately.

Marching through his chambers, Beast pushed open the doors and stomped on all fours down the hallway, as usual keeping his eyes ahead so they would not linger to the portraits of his ancestors staring down at him with, (as Beast sometimes imagined,) dismay or pity. Neither of which he wanted to be judged with by long dead relations.

As Beast approached the main staircase of the foyer, he could hear talking...rather shouting, from what sounded like Cogsworth admonishing the polished, welcoming voice of Lumière.

Peering around a large pillar, Beast's eyes widened in anger as he saw Lumière's glowing form hopping through to the hallway (that led to the sitting room,) leading a round, old man in a green cloak. Cogsworth lunged and gabbed a hold of the bottom of the old man's cloak.

"...no, no! You know what the Master will do if he finds him here!" The majordome at least was trying to put a stop to this outrage.

_But, as usual he can assert no authority whatsoever_, Beast thought with a scowl as he moved quickly down the stairs. _How dare Lumière undermine me and let a stranger into my castle? It is not even a girl, but an old peasant!_

All memory of the original appearance of the Enchantress seemed to leave Beast in that moment as he marched across the velvet carpet and into the door frame, stomping down the short distance to the sitting room. He pushed the doors open and they slammed hard against the wall; letting in the harsh breeze coming from an open window behind Beast, and blowing out the candles and lit up fireplace.

Peering inside Beast could see all of his head servants, (even Michel,) standing around _his _chair beside the fireplace. They all began to shake with fear and Cogsworth dived underneath the carpet. Chip jumped behind his mother whose teeth were chattering; and Lumière, (_filthy betrayer_, Beast snarled to himself,) was holding up his candlestick hands in front of his face.

Beast slowly descended down the marble stairs on all fours, growling in his fury of his servants undermining him yet again, his shadow loomed over the room as he whipped his head around. "There's a stranger here..."

"Master," Lumière had the audacity to address him after leading a trespasser to Beast's private den and placing him in his Master's chair, Beast turned his eyes to the candelabra who began gesturing with his hands. "Allow me to explain, the gentleman was lost in the woods, he was cold and wet so—"

"Rwaaaaaaaaarrrr!" Beast roared harder than he had ever snarled at Lumière before, hoping to at last have thumped some respect into his waxy head. The force of the roar blew out Lumière's flames as the candelabra cringed, holding his arms over his head dejectedly.

"Master," the soft, prissy voice of Cogsworth came from the direction of the corner of the carpet he had dived under previously, Beast rolled his eyes to the side. "I would just like to take this opportunity to say...I was against this from the start!" Cogsworth pointed at the cringing Lumière. "It was all his fault, I tried to stop him but would they listen to me, no, no—"

"Rwaaaaaaaaarrrr!" Beast roared in Cogsworth's direction. _These blasted servants, always passing the blame_. The majordome dived back under the carpet. The Master snorted and walked the short distance to peer around his high-backed, floral sitting chair; glaring down at the frightened old man who was whimpering, and staring back at him with enlarged green eyes as he shook with terror.

It was the first human Beast had laid eyes on in years, and yet it was not a woman who could break his spell. Anger boiled up twice as hard within him and the Beast moved forward, all but pushing the old man from the chair, who had to dive out of the way. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The balding old peasant looked around in fear, "I...I...I was lost in the woods and—"

"You're not welcome here!" Beast snarled in response, cutting off the old man's stammering.

"I...I'm sorry..."

The old man's gaze was still transfixed upon Beast's frightening visage and the Master grew angry at the staring, "what are you staring at?" He demanded. The servants were used to his appearance, but a stranger staring at him the way the old man did brought back all those wretched moments spent gazing into mirrors with horror when Beast had first transformed.

The old man stepped back from well over seven foot beast, "n...nothing..."

"So, you've come to stare at the Beast, have you?" The Master snapped only inches from the old man's sweating features._ Hapless peasant, someone must of escaped and told the villagers about me_.

The stranger tried to rush away, but Beast's cloak whipped about and cornered him again with his amazing speed, towering to his full height.

"Please, I meant no harm! I just needed a place to stay," the mouth bumbled fearful excuses from under the bushy moustache and the Beast had no sympathy for the elderly man. Excuses and pleading were for the weak!

How often had Beast pleaded to the Enchantress? The heavens above...even to his long dead father for retribution? Pity? An end to his suffering?_ To the tower with this snivelling old peasant and good riddance_.

"I'll give you a place to stay," Beast snarled, lifting the trespasser off the ground with one mighty paw and dragging him out of the den, slamming the door shut behind him as he galloped towards the long stairwell that lead to the highest tower of the castle; to the highest room where the dungeons were kept.

The old man kept pleading as they started to descend the many stone stairs, it was gradually getting colder and Beast shivered slightly, the cold air even penetrating his thick coat. "Will you be quiet?" Beast roared at the pleading man. "I cannot understand a blasted thing you're blabbering, peasant!"

"Oh please good sir, I have a daughter. She will be left all alone in the world, her mother died giving her life, and we have no close relations. I beg you to let me return to her," the old man was surprisingly well spoken when he wanted to be.

Beast stopped mid-way up the stairs and lifted him to his eye level. "Everyone eventually ends up alone in the end. She will just have to find some way of surviving or die," he said simply. "Now stop your whining or I will throw you back down the stairs head first, understand?" The enchanted Prince roared out the last command and the peasant lowered his head in submission.

"Yes sir."

The Master growled low in his throat and continued his march up the stairs, finally arriving in the entrance to the dungeon. He pulled open the disused room and threw the old peasant into the dungeon, slamming the door behind him hard and locking it tightly. Beast turned on his heal and went rushing back down the stairs, he was going to have war of words with his disobedient servant.

-xxx-

There was a loud thumping sound gradually getting closer to the sitting room that the innocent traveller had been lead to; and the servants, gathered around to provide strength in greater numbers, stood to attention.

Mrs Potts had sent Chip back to the kitchen on the trolley and stood firmly beside her fellow head servants.

The door flung open and their Master scowled deeply as he descended down the stairs. "I want an explanation of your behaviour, Lumière, and I want it now. The rest of you are dismissed, I will address Lumière alone."

Cogsworth cleared his throat as he placed his right grasping hand on Lumière's shoulder. "Master, I am just as much to blame as—"

The Beast snarled as he interrupted, " Cogsworth, I saw you trying to stop the peasant. Mrs Potts was not there, nor was Michel. It is _Lumière_ whom I want an explanation from. Get out the rest of you before I throw you out in a million pieces," he snapped.

The other servants murmured words of comfort to the candelabra before exiting post haste and shutting the door behind them.

Lumière stood in the middle of the room and Beast encircled him. "May I speak, your highness?" The maître d' spoke up after a moment of the silence and glaring of his Master.

"You may," Beast agreed, stalking over to his chair and sitting down. "Better make whatever excuse you have a good one."

The candelabra paused and cleared his throat, "it has been ten years since anyone approached this castle. We have been loyal to you for many years before then. We have sound judgement in matters applying to what is best and—"

Beast dug his claws into the upholstery of the armrests of his chair, "get to the point, Lumière."

"Did you stop to think perhaps that man had a daughter, or could bring a young girl from the village here?" Lumière suddenly burst out with narrowed eyes. "You do not stop and think of that because you are incapable of controlling your temper. And it is that arrogance and holier-than-thou attitude that got us cursed in the first place. And that is our fault because of our ability not to curb it the same way your mother could." He placed his candle-stick hands together.

"Do you want this curse to break? Or are you already so far gone you do not want to be human again?"

Beast's jaw dropped, shock from the unexpected boldness of Lumière's speech had flung him into a stupor. "I—I...you are dismissed Lumière, do not do this again, leave me in peace," he said softly, the maître d' opened his mouth to continue, but Beast lifted his paw.

"Speak again to me in the manner you did before and I'll throw you on the fire. Out. Now."

As Lumière, with much relief, departed, Beast crawled off of the chair and curled up in front of the fire, and rested his head between his paws. His blue eyes closed and he tried to shut out the previous conversation.

_Of course he was right, but blast it all...this is my castle_!

Perhaps in the morning Beast could discover if the peasant could be proved useful as Lumière mentioned.

-xxx-

Beast didn't know how long he'd been asleep, he hadn't been sleeping well these past months and had often gone days without sleep. He looked over at the fire which was still roaring; but the view from the window showed the sky in dark overcast, nearing towards evening...had he slept the entire day away?

His stomach growled dangerously and Beast rubbed his bare stomach ruefully. It would seem he had overslept and the servants had left him to do so, only stoking the fire to keep him comfortable. It was too dark to hunt and Beast hadn't eaten since early morning yesterday.

Getting to his feet and stretching, he shook his fur out and left the sitting room to move towards the direction of the kitchen.

Arriving at the door, he pushed it open to find only Chef Bouche and his serving staff, even though there was a tub full of soap, Mrs Potts was nowhere to be seen, probably scouring the castle for her youngest son.

"Ah Bonjour Master, what do you require?" The stove questioned friendly. "I can whip you up anything you—"

Beast shook his head, "just get your serving staff to bring me whatever has been freshly killed and take it up to my room," he ordered.

The Chef nodded sadly and motioned to his staff. "Fetch the finely sliced _boeuf_ and the plucked _faisans_ for his highness. I was going to turn them into a culinary masterpiece your highness would have adored! At least let me make you your favourite _Gâteau à la Jacobine..."_

Beast waved his paw, "I do not crave sweets any more Chef Bouche, just the meat and be quick about it!" He barked, the serving staff squealed a little and went rushing to bring in the meat from the cool room. They offered the trays of food to their Master's inspection.

"Very well, bring it to my chambers."

-xxx-

Beast chewed the last faisan bone and tossed it onto the silver tray, he gulped down the jug of water and got up from his crouched position, he was quite full and felt like a march around the castle grounds to stretch his legs, walking out of his chambers. Beast stopped mid-stride when he heard a voice.

"_Papa? Papa?"_

He froze, straining to hear that almost heavenly voice. _It sounds like an angel_...

Wait...if it were an angel why would they be searching for their father? It must be the daughter the old peasant had spoke of.

_How did she track her father here_?

Never mind. Yet another trespasser to his castle, this must be seen to. She would try to get her father out; the old man had mentioned she had no-one else in the world.

Half-growling, Beast galloped towards the high tower on all fours, rushing to get up the stairs to confront yet another intruder, stopping in the entrance doorway Beast's hand went to his furry throat. There was a cloaked figure in front of the cell, clutching the old peasant's hand.

"...you must go...now!" the old man was begging the figure, who shook its head.

"I won't leave you!"

The voice of the figure was clear, mature and sweet, certainly not the voice of a child and too light to be that of an old woman. But this information came too late to Beast as he all but leapt through the air and knocked the flaming torch from the blue clothed intruder's right hand, and into a puddle of stagnant water.

"What are you doing here?" Beast yelled as the figure fell backward. As his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, the enchanted prince could see the shadowy outline of the figure, and held his breath.

It was a woman. Slender and petite, her firm figure suggested she was young. Perhaps younger than himself.

_A girl...after all this time...this is no cruel trick of the light...is it?_

The old peasant cried out, "run Belle!"

_Belle_..._beauty_...

It was true then. It _was _a young woman.

"Who's there? Who are you?" The mademoiselle questioned with a tone of fear in her voice, looking around to try and spot Beast in the shadows.

Beast softened his tone somewhat, the sweetness of her voice reminded him of his gentle sister. "The master of this castle," he growled softly, sweeping closer with catlike swiftness to get closer to this almost apparition, for he feared she would vanish if he stayed back.

The young woman leaned forward, still on her knees, "I've come for my father. Please let him out! Can't you see he's sick?" She pleaded.

The master of Château d'démons narrowed his eyes, a_gain pleading. Don't these peasants do anything else but plead for lives_?

"Then he shouldn't have trespassed here!" Beast growled back in response, baring his teeth and leaning forward for emphasis; also trying to get a better look at the first human female he'd seen in years.

The young woman sobbed, "but he could die! Please, I'll do anything!" She begged, leaning forward and placing her hands on the cold dungeon floor.

Beast was surprised at the earnest manner of her pleading, but her words of doing anything filled him with bitterness."There's nothing you can do," he turned away, _this was justice for trespassing_. "He is my prisoner."

"Oh, there must be some way I can...wait!" The girl in her persistence called out, and the Beast looked over his shoulder at her exclamation to halt him, his teeth still bared.

The girl looked back at her ailing father, then moved into the light. Beast swallowed hard as every inch of her beautiful face, (framed by long, chestnut-brown hair pulled back into a simple ponytail,) was revealed at last to him...

Of course her name would mean _beauty_, she was the single, most breathtaking sight he'd ever beheld.

Her eyes, as they slowly opened, were a shade of light brown and her picturesque lips were full, like those of a classical statue.

Beast was suddenly very ashamed of his hulking, monstrous form and went to move further into the dark shadows as the angelic beauty continued to address him.

"Take me instead."

The soft plead filled Beast once again with bitterness as he turned away from her. She would exchange herself, in the prime of her life, for her dying, elderly father?

"You—!" Beast halted mid-snarl and dared to gaze over the this girl, (this epic beauty called Belle,) once more, this time in disbelief. _Is this actually happening? Is anyone this selfless and good? _"—you would...take his place?" His voice softened, almost sounding human.

Beast was sincerely shocked, but the notion came to his head, _could this girl be the one_?

"Belle no! You don't know what you are doing!" The girl's father interrupted, crying out in dread on behalf of his daughter.

The young woman..._Belle_, looked firmly up at Beast. "If I did, would you let him go?" She demanded.

Beast was again taken back by the firm way this girl spoke, more like a noblewoman then a simple peasant. He moved closer, talking softly once again. "Yes but," he marvelled at her perfect pale skin, he longed to know the feel of it beneath his fingers.

If he could keep her long enough in here, perhaps in time..._would it be possible_?

The enchanted Prince tilted his head, "you would have to stay here, forever."

Belle hesitated, no doubt pondering the situation of giving up her life to a person she hadn't even laid eyes on properly. "Come into the light?" She inquired slowly, squinting those large, beautiful brown eyes.

Beast swallowed hard again. What if she would reject him and take back her offer? How could he deal with such an prospect when time was running out? Would he lock her up in the dungeon with her father and force her?

Bravely the Beast ignored these thoughts, and slowly stepped into the shaft of light shining down from the broken roof, straightening his back he looked down at the girl, with uncertainty in his physical demeanour and in his very blue eyes. Beast's heart sank as the girl gasped in horror and turned back to her father.

Her much admired eyes shut tight against the very sight of him.

The old man placed his hand between the bars of the dungeon door and rested it on his daughter's shoulder. "No Belle!" He cried desperately as the young woman placed her hand on his arm comfortingly. "I won't let you do this!"

Beast stood and watched as the girl glanced back over her shoulder at him, she got to her feet and marched firmly over to stand only inches from him. She was very delicate; and only just over five feet one if that (Beast estimated as her head only came up to the middle of his torso.)

But her unblemished pale skin had a healthy glow, and her slender build, nevertheless, looked firm and much stronger than those of the French court Princesses and Duchesses he could remember.

Belle eyes were sealed shut and her head was boldly held high. "You have my word," she submitted.

"Done!" Beast didn't wait one moment for a change of mind from the girl, in five short months he'd be twenty-one, and all hope for being human again lost. He pushed past the girl who fell to her knees, covering up her face as Beast unlocked the door and reached in to grab the old man, who darted around his reaching paw and rushed over to his daughter.

"No Belle," the old man begged, falling to the ground and lifting the girl up slightly, holding her in his arms. "I'm old I've lived my life—"

Beast silently reached over and dragged the old peasant away from his daughter, pulling him out of the door by the back of his collar. The old man struggled against the Prince's hold and reached out for his daughter, who reached back pleadingly.

"Wait!"

"Belle!"

"_Wait_!"

In his exaltation Beast ignored the beautiful girl's cries and dragged the weeping old man down the stone stairs at great haste.

It was finally here, his chance to redeem himself and break this curse that had stolen away his childhood and his life, she could be the one..._she must be_!

Beast raced across the foyer and threw open one of the side exits that, where waiting as Beast galloped down the stairs, was the pallenquin (carriage,) covered in growth and cobwebs in a corner of the courtyard.

"No, spare my daughter, please!" The old peasant wouldn't stop his incessant requests, and Beast lifted him up to his eye-level.

"She is no longer your concern." It was true. The girl was all his now. She had given herself up willingly as his prisoner.

Beast threw the old man into the pallenquin and shut the door firmly, "take him to the village!" He ordered, turning on his heal and rushing back inside on all fours with increasing speed.

He had to lay eyes on that girl again, these nearly ten years had been lonely and hard. He'd driven away his servants for the most part, and the man he was now under this beastly flesh longed for a woman's touch, as Lumière had explained to him long ago.

Speaking of his maître d'...

"Master–"

Beast looked over in the direction of the overly pleasant voice, as he ascended back up the tower stairs, to find the aforementioned Lumière loitering in a alcove with all candles blazing.

"What?" Beast cut off his servant with a blunt snarl.

Lumière rested his candlestick hands together. "Since the girl is going to be with us for quite some time, I was thinking that you might want to offer her a more comfortable room?"

Beast growled low, nearly extinguishing Lumière's flames as he stalked away, hearing the candelabra mutter something about _"maybe not." _

As usual his maître d' seemed to be in the right, _damn it all_...

As the enchanted prince approached the dungeon entrance and moved towards the cell, he could hear the girl's heartbroken crying. The uncertain Beast stood in the doorway; his shadow looming over the girl and she turned around, wiping her eyes with exhausted sobs.

"You didn't even let me say good bye. I'll never see him again," she turned back to her position of kneeling beside the lone window and rested her head on her arms, sobbing into them once more. "I didn't get to say good-bye..."

Beast rubbed the back of his neck in confusement, he didn't know how to comfort this distraught girl at all. He thought he should know, but all he could hear in the back of his mind was a child's voice, his own voice thirteen years ago...

"_...Père... Père!"_

Shaking out the memory, Beast looked solemnly at Belle. "I'll show you to your room," he managed to eventually mumble.

The girl turned and laid upon him her own look of confusion as she wiped her eyes again. "My room?" she motioned around the cell. "But I thought—"

Beast waved around his arms as he interrupted, "you wanna, you wanna stay in the tower?" He invoked clumsily.

Belle shook her head in response. "No," she admitted quietly, getting to her feet slowly.

"Then follow me," Beast replied just as quietly, only moments here and he was already beginning to feel calmer. But his face contorted into a look of pain from the half-disgusted, half-frightened, expression on the girl's face as he turned to lead her out.

She was like looking into the radiant sun and he belonged in the shadows, far away from her shinning light.

Beast didn't know quite what to do with himself, so sufficed for looking over his shoulder to make Belle was still following him, that she was still there and not a dream.

Half-way down the stairs Beast grabbed Lumière from the alcove, so he would help light the rest of the way to the East Wing of the castle.

The East Wing was somewhere he rarely trod, but the most beautiful room, (his Christine's room,) was near the end of the elegant wing. It was the perfect place, Madame Grande Bouche would see her dressed in fine clothing. _She would like that, wouldn't she_? Beast suspected so. _Girls like clothing, don't they_? He couldn't quite remember...

Beast was lost in his thoughts but was soon shaken out of them when he heard Belle gasp at the sight of something and she rushed closer to him. Walking now only slightly behind him, with her eyes closed and tears rolling down her cheeks, Beast felt nervous at the closeness of her and looked away to hide his embarrassment.

"Say something to her," Lumière whispered to him.

Beast nodded, about time his maître d' offered help. "Hmm? Oh," he turned to look behind at Belle. "I...um...hope you like it here." He glanced back over at Lumière who waved his candlestick hands encouragingly, so Beast continued to talk kindly as he turned back to where the girl was looking quizzically up at him. "The castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you wish..."

The master of the castle hardened his tone slightly, she must be kept away from the shambles of his chambers and the glowing rose.

"...except the West Wing..."

Belle cocked her head to the side curiously, "what's in the West Win—?"

"It is forbidden!" Beast halted and cut her off mid-sentence firmly, and he growled for emphasis down at her, then swung his red cloak around as he turned back to looking ahead and continued escorting the frightened young woman to her room. He ignored Lumière shaking his head.

The girl had to know her place. He _would_ be master in his own castle.

They continued on in silence until they reached the room at the farthest end of the East Wing. Two robed angels stood guard on either side of the door-frame. Beast's reached over with his free paw and pulled down the handle, pushing the door open and stepped aside to let Belle inside.

The girl's face was plain and her delicate white hands were at the broach of her cloak, she turned her back to him and held her head stubbornly high; reminding Beast of his high-strung mare Diamant, (now turned into a mounting stool and much subdued.)

Beast studied Belle's stoic form. Even emotionless there was something about her, something much deeper than mere looks, it sent strange sensations through him even with her gaze turned away from him. "Now, if there's anything you need, my servants will attend you," he paused and waited for her to say something. Some word of gratitude.

But the girl said nothing. No thank-you for not being kept in the tower. No thank-you for giving her free reign of the castle, except for his wing. Belle just kept her gaze ahead and a blank look on her lovely features.

"Dinner, invite her to dinner," Lumière finally offered his advice in a loud whisper.

Beast stood to his full height, her passive ignoring of him and her open insolence was beginning to irk him. "You will join me for dinner,"' he offered awkwardly, watching with increasing annoyance as Belle sighed deeply and Beast had finally had enough. No-one ignored him like this!

"_That's not a request!" _The Prince shouted at the top of his lungs, slamming the door forcefully. Beast snorted at the closed doors before turning and stomping back down the hall.

Lumière, still clutched in his Master's paw, raised his brow wearily. "Master, that is perhaps not the best way to win the mademoiselle's affections. You must be more chivalrous, more civil—"

Beast turned to regard his closest servant and his mouth formed a stubborn line under his fangs, "I _was_ being civil. You could have been just a _little_ more helpful," he stressed poignantly.

There was a deep sigh from Lumière and yet a further raised brow, "oui, perhaps Master. But love cannot be forced nor dictated to you by someone, you have to let yourself feel it," Lumière explained soothingly as his master placed him down on a hall table.

Rolling his eyes stubbornly, Beast looked away, "I don't feel anything," he mumbled embarrassedly.

"Ha!" Lumière said loudly, startling his hulking master. "Why do I not believe that? I have know you all your life, Master, do not lie to me. She is very beautiful and well-spoken, a true belle like her name...unless you do not feel that way towards young ladies in general?" Lumière tried to put it delicately.

Beast looked back down at his maître d' with a confused raise of his eyebrows. "What...?Oh no. Nothing like that. I'm sure I like girls—"

"Women," Lumière corrected, with more than a little bit of a smirk.

"—women then, it's just," Beast rubbed the back of his neck. "I haven't been around any of them—women that is, since the curse...well ones who weren't enchanted objects. That girl is unlike anyone I've ever met," he honestly admitted, resting his large paws on the table.

Lumière patted Beast's left paw with one of his candlestick hands, smiling hopefully. "That may be a very good thing Master."

"Well then?" Mrs Potts warm voice interrupted them, an expectant look gracing her plump features as she hopped over to them with Chip, the milk jug and the sugar bowl trailing after her.

The gold candelabra maître d' jumped off of the table to Mrs Potts side. "We must prepare a romantic dinner by candlelight. Mrs Potts inform Chef Bouche..."

Mrs Potts bowed, her spout almost touching the velvet carpet covered floor, "I already took the liberty. Come along Chip and you as well Jacqueline and Amiee," she addressed her son and the two kitchen maids; the sugar bowl Jacqueline was the sweet wife of Beast's valet Michel. "We have to go greet our guest," Mrs Potts winked at Beast. "I've been told she's rather pretty, isn't she?"

"She is Mama, I've seen her," Chip chirped up happily, he looked quizzically up at Beast with his large eyes, the recent addition of the chip on his side had come about from an accident two years ago, sadly matching his nickname. "Do you like her?"

Mrs Potts nudged her son, "on with you Chip, no more of your silly questions," she smiled kindly up at the Master. "I can already see the answer to that question in someone's eyes."

Beast looked flushed and rubbed his mouth, "I— go bring her some tea," he grumbled. Mrs Potts bowed and went waddling away with her son and the kitchen maids, soon after the tea-set had turned the corner Cogsworth arrived up the stairs in a flourish.

"Everything is being laid out splendidly Master, a roaring fire and fine food making a very..." Cogsworth trailed off as Beast merely snorted and pushed past him, the mantle-clock watching him descend down the stairs on all fours with a sigh. "...romantic atmosphere. Oh dear."

Lumière sided up to his counterpart, looking on as their Master paced up and down in the foyer nervously like a caged animal. "Thank God that a girl has arrived at last. The Master was becoming more like a wild beast every day," his waxy skin took on a green pallor. "I don't think I could have stomached seeing him drag in another animal carcass..."

Cogsworth kindly patted Lumière's arm. He had trained Lumière in his position when the younger man had arrived in the castle as a bright fifteen-year-old boy; and up until a few years ago he'd never seen the tiredness the maître d' had been showing. Now his exuberance was returning, and the majordome could feel a sense of hope.

"I was beginning to fear the worst as well my friend. But now this turn of events gives us the best chance to hope for the best," Cogsworth pointed out, a smile on his face for a change as he put his arms behind his back, turning away from his fellow servant. "But we must go about this with the utmost efficiency, the girl must fall in love with the Master as quickly as possible..."

Cogsworth turned around to find himself alone, "Lumière?" He questioned out lout, then placing one of his grasping hands over his eyes like a visor, he saw three glowing lights pursuing a shadowy outline of feathers down the East Wing. "Oh well, it looks like love might truly be in the air," he chortled to himself, before the majordome descended down the stairs to try to calm down his pacing Master.

-xxx-

Beast was almost wearing down the spot he was pacing in the foyer into a trench, his mind whirling with feelings so strange. Emotion that this girl..._Belle, Belle_, her name actually rang in his head like a chiming glockenspiel...Beast smiled.

He remembered the sound of that tiny metal instrument, the soft French horns and a lively harpsichord leading it along...

(He hadn't hear music since he'd broken tiny Jacques, the music-box had been repaired, or so Cogsworth had admitted to him. But Jacques had been hid away somewhere by his concerned parents, who didn't give in to Beast's outraged demands; mostly because they couldn't be made to talk...literally. And heavens knows where the chamber orchestra had hidden themselves these days... )

Now Beast could hear music again without anyone playing it. But soon enough the notes dried away into bitterness.

The hard truth was the girl must be _made_ to fall in love with him. Beast didn't know how to force such an emotion. He didn't remember a lot about how his parents had acted around one another. Lumière was always smooching with his silly French maid like a daft man; Capitaine Amable had loved Christine...

Beast stopped his pacing. He'd never thought of that before. He realised it now. His sister and Edgard would take him for walks around the castle grounds, their arms linked as the little Prince he'd been, raced about talking about one thing or another..._well that was certainly strange, no wonder_...

"Oh Master?"

"What?" Beast inquired as he was startled out of his thoughts by his happy looking majordome. "Oh it's you Cogsworth," he sat back on his haunches as the mantle-clock bowed obediently.

"Yes Master. If you would like to follow me to the private dining room, everything should be prepared."

Beast nodded and got to his feet, "well lead on. Everything better be perfect," he warned.

-xxx-

The firelight gleamed merrily off of the decorated walls of the private dining room. The long table in the middle of the room was laid out with decadent fare. Chef Bouche had happily whipped up an elegant feast and the delicacies were numerous.

Lumière, up on the mantle with Mrs Potts, took his gaze from his nervously pacing master to gaze over the candlelit dinner with a critical eye. He would have preferred flowers from the garden-house adorning the setting; the candelabra had a feeling the girl liked flora...

Beast growled low in his throat and the maître d' turned his attention back on their temperamental master, Mrs Potts looking on sympathetically.

"What's taking so long? I told her to come down..." Beast glared up at his head servants, anger in his tone but also hurt confusion. "Why isn't she here yet?"

"Oh, try to be patient, sir. The girl has lost her father and her freedom all in one day," Mrs Potts said comfortingly in the warm tone Beast hadn't heard her use in a long time. He was placated for a few moments as he resumed his pacing, this time more slowly.

Lumière raised his candlestick hand. "Uh, master, have you thought that, perhaps, this girl could be the one to break the spell?" He inquired hopefully.

Beast took his meaning the wrong way and halted again in his pacing. "Of course I have!" He snapped up at the mantle, _presumptuous candelabra_. "I'm not a fool," he mumbled this last part as he resumed his pacing again.

The girl was his last hope, he knew that as fact, not as a probability.

The maître d' beamed and pressed his candlestick hands together, _ah the possibility of l'amour! I would so love to see the boy in love, and let us not forget us all becoming human again. _"Good. You fall in love with her," he lit up his right candlestick, "she falls in love with you." Lumière lit up his right candlestick, "and—_Poof!_—" he blew out both of the flames and beamed down at his Master.

"The spell is broken! We'll be human again by midnight!"

Mrs Potts shook her head. Lumière was used to having woman fall all over him, but true love that was needed to break the spell needed to be nurtured. "Oh, it's not that easy, Lumière. These things take time," she said firmly to the candelabra.

"But the rose has already begun to wilt," the maître d' stressed, pointing his hands downwards to drive his point home. Mrs Potts sighed and looked just as concerned at Lumière as they turned to look down at their master. He would soon be twenty-one..._ten years_...

Beast stopped his pacing and looked up exhaustedly at his servants with a sigh, "oh it's no use," he rubbed the back of his neck, "she's so beautiful and I'm..." he pulled down his paw and looked at it in disgust. _Did a human hand really used to be there?_ "...I'm...well look at me!" He growled up at his servants in frustration and sorrow, his teeth bared.

Lumière was lost for words for a change and Mrs Potts gave him a sad look as he shrugged in her direction, and turned to gaze gently down at the Prince.

Angela Potts had held the only son of Prince Christophe long before anyone else, the very moment when he came into this world. Her young master might have tried to repress his name, but Mrs Potts would always hold him as her Adam, like one of her own children.

When this spell was broken, she'd hold him again.

"Oh you must help her to see past all that," Mrs Potts soothed. If she could still see the boy she cared for under all that fur, surely that lovely Belle could see past the outward appearance to the man the Master must be underneath now. The young woman was a smart creature and would make a likely match for Adam's temper, with her stubbornness and gentle nature.

Beast looked away with a scowl like an impertinent child, "I don't know how," he grumbled.

Mrs Potts straightened herself up and narrowed her eyes. Oh no, this was no time for the self pitying act, it was high time the Prince acted like the grown man he was, _no more mollycoddling_. "Well," she hopped off of the mantle. "You can start by making yourself look more presentable," Mrs Potts hopped onto the table so she was eye level with Beast. "Straighten up."

Beast instantly placed his paws together and stood up formally on all fours like an obedient dog, holding his head high.

"Try to act like a gentleman," Mrs Potts added firmly.

"Ah yes," Lumière eager to get his Master in a better mood and prepared to be chivalrous."When she comes in, give her a dashing, debonair smile," he beamed himself to give an example and encouraged Beast. "Come, come. Show me the smile."

Beast tried to imitate his maître d's charming grin, but just ended up barring his fangs in a manner that would have been frightening if not for the attempted kindness in the rest of his expression.

"Don't frighten the poor girl," Mrs Potts admonished.

Beast dropped his grin and looked over at her confusedly, his mouth hanging slightly open. _I wasn't trying to_...

"Impress her with your rapier wit," Lumière interrupted helpfully.

The Beast nodded, then was slightly confused. _Rapier wit_...?

"Be gentle," Mrs Potts interceded with a smile as Beast again turned his attention to her.

"Shower her with compliments," Lumière offered, the Master turning to regard the piece of advice from his maître d'.

_Compliments, right, yes...you look...pretty...no, beautiful... _

"But be sincere," Mrs Potts said warmly, interrupting Beast's thoughts of preparation yet again.

The enchanted Prince jammed his paws over his ears, he needed to concentrate. Couldn't they give him a moment to think for himself? _Don't frighten her, rapier wit...whatever that is, be gentle, compliment her and be sincere... _

"And above all," Lumière's voice cut into Beast's sore head but this time the Master kept his eyes sealed shut.

"You must control your temper!" Mrs Potts and Lumière said in unison.

Beast scowled_, I can control my temper_! They didn't need to remind him...

There was a slight squeaking of a door handle and Lumière whispered excitedly to his Master. "Here she is!"

Removing his paws from his ears and opening up his large blue eyes, Beast looked hopefully over in the direction of the doorway.

The right door opened slightly and peering around the side was...Cogsworth. Who looked decidedly caught between sheepish and panicked.

"Good-evening," the majordome almost squeaked out in his precise accent, his gold grasping hands resting anxiously on the door edge.

Beast's expression fell into annoyance and his ears drooped down accordingly. "Well? Where is she?" He demanded, waving his paws for emphasis, possibly as a threat; which Cogsworth would knowingly take into account.

The mantle-clock nervously stepped into the room and tried to act nonchalantly. "Who? Oh ah...the girl..yes the girl! Well, actually, she's in the process of..." Cogsworth rubbed his grasping hands together as the Master's eyes slowly became narrower. "..Ah, um, circumstances being what they are, ah..." He dropped the façade and his cheery expression drooped.

"She's not coming."

Beast tilted back his head and a let out a strangled cry of outrage, "_What_?" He bellowed, pushing past Cogsworth and bolting out of the doors; pushing them both open in his raw anger and annoyance. Beast galloped out of the room and rushed up the staircase on all fours in his haste to get to the room in the East Wing.

_Ungrateful girl! She's a lowly peasant and I asked her politely...no, I ordered her politely to come to dinner. Who does she think she is?_

He could hear Cogsworth's desperate cries of, "Your grace! Your eminence! Let's not be hasty!" Vaguely in the background, but took none of the titles, (even the strange _eminence_ reference,) into account as he all but leapt over the balustrade; and rushed to the robed angel guarded room, pounding furiously on the door.

"I thought I told you to come down to dinner!" Beast demanded a response from the girl.

Which came back swiftly and stubbornly, and slightly muffled, through the closed doors.

"_I'm not hungry_!"

_How dare she? _The mane on the back of his neck raised up in his anger as he yelled back. "You'll come out or I'll..." he quickly thought of the best threat. "...I'll break down the door!" Beast clenched his large fists behind his back. _There. I'll grab her and pull her out of the room! See how she would like that...!_

"Master?" Lumière ventured, and Beast looked down at his maître d' with a strained expression. "I could be wrong, but," he chuckled nervously. "That may not be the best way to win the girl's affections..."

"Please," Cogsworth interrupted with his hands clenched together desperately. "Attempt to be a gentleman?"

Attempt? He _was_ trying to be a gentleman and she was...she was... "but she," Beast gestured to the door with his teeth clenched. "Is being so _difficult_!"The Prince barked out the last word directly to the closed doors, and looked back down at his servants for advice.

"Gently, gently," Mrs Potts offered soothingly with well practised patience.

Beast scowled in annoyance, looking away from his servants back at the door, then glanced away; his mouth crooked in the expression the servants could remember him wearing as a boy when he was partially confused, partially trying to keep his temper in check.

"Will you come down to dinner," Beast addressed Belle stoically through the door, without the usual growl behind his tone, but in no way submissive.

"_No_," Belle responded with only slightly more gentility and a very upset trill suggesting that she was annoyed at still being badgered.

Beast pointed to the door in outraged and grunted his point to the servants. The girl still wouldn't let up and he was being made to look like a fool, _I should just break down the blasted doors_...

Cogsworth cleared his throat, "suave, gentile...?" He suggested quietly with a nervous smile.

The mane on the back of Beast's neck was again rising with his growing displeasure and he clenched his red cloak between his paws, his claws slightly digging into the fine fabric and his tail swishing in annoyance. "It would give me," he said in a strained tone and his teeth clenched yet again as he bowed slightly. "Great pleasure, if you would join me for dinner..."

"Ahem, ahem we say please," Cogsworth interjected in a stage whisper.

Beast rolled his eyes and leaned in closer to the green doors. "Please." He added reluctantly, _ridiculous word_, he hadn't had to use it in years.

Now the enchanted Prince had to use it on a simple peasant girl, who should be submitting to him; not the other way around.

"_No thank-you_!" Belle's response was sharp ,and full of the previously suggested annoyance that Beast wouldn't take her first response as her absolute refusal.

Beast's fur raised up all over his body in annoyance. _How dare she_? Not even his own mother or sister had spoken to him like this! Only that ridiculous peasant girl in Paris had ever...

Damn, what had brought back that memory? Beast's fury knew no bounds and he grabbed the corners of his cloak in his frustration.

"Fine! Then go ahead and _staaarve_!" The last word came out as elongated roar like an animal snarl as the Prince bellowed at those damnable closed doors. Beast turned on his servants with his teeth bared, all patience gone out the window, he pointed at his chest.

"If she doesn't eat with me, then she doesn't at all," he waved his arms to emphasises his absolution.

Growling his displeasure, Beast galloped away from the east wing and rushed towards his chambers in the West Wing, slamming the doors behind him in his fury, how could she dare to refuse him? Nobody ever refused him...especially if he was ever polite to them!

He pushed open the doors to his Master chambers, "I ask nicely and she refuses," Beast mumbled to himself, tossing aside a broken chair blocking his way as he made his way over to where the ever blooming rose, (that was starting to wilt and a number of petals already fallen under the dome to the tabletop.) "Well wha—what does she want me to do? Beg?" He exclaimed in outrage.

The cursed prince looked down at the table and grabbed the enchanted mirror resting near the rose. "Show me the girl," Beast demanded.

The mirror glowed its usual eerie green colour, and Beast's solemn reflection shimmered away and was replaced by a view of his sister's room. The beautiful Belle was sitting on the corner of the bed with her arms folded under her breasts, and her lovely mouth set in a stubborn line. Her brown eyes were turned to Madame de la Grande Bouche.

The habilleur turned wardrobe was leaning on the bed opposite the girl, with a cheery smile over her broad wooden features. "_Why, the master's not so bad once you get to know him." _ Madame de la Grande explained with a pleading tone in her voice. "_Why don't you give him a chance?"_

Belle turned her elegant head away and closed her eyes_. "I don't want to get to know him,"_ she turned back around and unfolded her arms, as she looked back at the wardrobe with a half-frightened, half-unyielding countenance. _"I don't want to have anything to do with him!"_

Beast looked away with a dejected expression_, she would think that way. I hoped perhaps too much for something that would be too much to ask for._ "I'm just fooling myself. She'll never see me as anything..." he turned away and placed back down the mirror gingerly on the table.

"But a monster." Beast whispered.

He was. That's all he was. The Enchantress had been right to turn him this way...no one could ever love him.

"It's hopeless," the enchanted Prince murmured as he leaned over the table and rested his huge head in his left paw, resting his right on the edge of the elaborately carved tabletop. Peering through his fingers he saw yet another petal had fallen. It wouldn't be long now.

Tilting his head back to look up at the high vaulted ceiling, Beast let out a shuddering sigh and looked over his shoulder at the open window.

It was snowing, but he need a long walk to clear his thoughts. This girl...only hours of being here and already she was turning his life upside down..._well more so_...bah, he didn't know any more.

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**Oh this was a tough chapter now we're in movie territory, I promise I'll delve a little bit more from what we see in the movie to try and flesh out everything, but there we have it for the moment. Let me know your thoughts or just a review, thanks for reading. **


	6. 1791 x Conte de toujours

Some replies and apologies:

**Hidden in the fourth wall: **I'm so sorry you found all those errors! I had four wisdom teeth plus an extra one removed and was so swollen I looked like a Chipmunk when I uploaded, so pretty much after writing I only checked it over once, moaned quietly to myself, took a load of painkillers, wrapped an ice-pack around my face, fluffed my pillow and watched a rather large amount of Monty Python amongst other things, I didn't get a chance to correct everything until about five days afterwards (and found more mistakes,) but it's all corrected now and thank-you for that. hugs, We can't always rely on spell-check for grammar.

Everyone else, more hugs hugs, hugs for reviewing and I hope you like the scribble I've procured here, it's not much, but I hope you will let me know what you think.

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**Chapter Six**

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_**S**_tomping around in the castle grounds in the bitter snow for a few hours had not improved Beast's disposition one ounce. His feet were wet and half-frozen; and his furry coat was covered with un-melted snow. The hem of his thick red cloak was sopping wet, and dragged heavily behind him.

Beast grunted as he pulled the aforementioned cloak forward as it stuck to the ground. He wanted to sleep off his tired annoyance. Finally a girl arrived and was proving to be just as much work as finding any way else to break the spell. Beast knew that perhaps she was disgusted not only by his physical appearance, but also at being told what to do.

Her father seemed like the gentle, scholarly type of person usually only noble fathers could afford to be. Perhaps Beast was mistaken, perhaps Belle was some form of nobility.

The Prince turned Beast reached the west side of the castle and began the climb up to his balcony; with long practiced sure-footedness, he scaled the crumbling exterior of the once fine baroque period château.

The climbing vines, mostly of ivy, had long ago dried up and crumbled beneath his powerful touch, sending their dried husks and the semi-soft snow tumbling down as Beast grabbed a hold of the structure railing and hoisted himself onto the balcony. Looking up into his chambers he let out an angry snort of shock, as he saw a figure, half-in darkness and half-lit up by the glow of the enchanted rose, which was without its dome.

It was the girl, emerged from her room. She had disobeyed his order never to enter the West Wing, and worst of all she had removed the dome from the enchanted rose! What if she would touch the flower, and its delicate dying form shook loose the last of the petals?

Leaping through the air with amazing speed, quick as a flash Beast grabbed the glass dome and placed it firmly back down over the shimmering, hovering red rose. He growled low in his throat, and continued his glaring at the girl who was slowly backing away with a petrified expression freezing her delicate pale features; her eyes enlarged with fear.

_How could she...how dare she...!_

"Why did you come here?" Beast tried to check his temper. But the horrified expression on the girl's face was making his fear and anger grow rapidly. _Why did she disobey me_? He had expressly forbidden her to come here at all!

The girl tried to stammer out an apology, "I'm sorry..."

Beast followed as she continued her slowly edging backwards. "I warned you never to come here!" He cut her off with a loud snarl and flung out his arms.

Belle jumped behind a table and rested her hands on the top, "I didn't mean any harm..."

_Troublesome peasant girl_! Obviously she was trying to destroy him so she could go back to her father!

Even if she were not, wouldn't she have enough sense to see the object shouldn't be touched at all? She shouldn't have been here in the first place!

"Don't you realise what you could have _done_?" Beast pulled back his huge furry arm and smashed the fragile wooden table she was trying to hide behind in his unbridled fury.

Belle jumped out of the way of the splintering pieces of furniture flying through the air and pressed herself up against a wardrobe, her chest heaving in her panic. "Please stop!" She cried out pleadingly.

More begging and more pleading for him not to harm her..._what about the harm that she could have done to me?_

"Get out!" Beast roared in her face and reached out with a mighty paw to smash the polished wardrobe behind her. The blue clad maiden turned and let out a frightened cry as she ran for the door as Beast again roared in his uncontrollable fury, and smashed another piece of furniture within his reach. He threw his head forward as he roared the last words to the girl as she fled.

"_Get out_!"

Pulling himself back up and flinging his cloak behind him, Beast suddenly let out a gasp.

Oh no...

_What have I done?_

That girl...his last hope...all that could have been done to try and stop the curse...she would never forgive him...

He smashed his face into his mighty paw and let out a frustrated silent cry. The enchanted Prince heard the front doors of the castle slam open; and Beast rushed over to one of the side balconies to see Belle rushing out into the courtyard, her dark blue cloak thrown hurriedly over her shoulders leap up onto a heavy horse who had been tied up outside...

_Damn, why hadn't one of the grooms taken the creature to the stables_?

In his panic Beast still took note of how perfectly the girl had mounted and ridden the horse through the open gates. She was a brilliant horsewoman, but she still didn't know the forests like he did.

Beast took a running leap off of the balcony and landed on one of the jutting machicolations, looking down he jumped from the platform and landed hard on the soft snow.

Getting to his feet Beast rushed forward on all fours. Belle had the advantage, but he would use every known shortcut to cut off her attempted escape. _Blasted girl_...no, blast himself he shouldn't of frightened her. Now she would be exposed to all the dangers of the _Forêt Noire _(_Black Forest._)

The low hanging branches, thorn filled thickets and ditches that were difficult to see in the darkness, let alone in a snow storm. But the most frightening part were the packs of wolves that ran rampant throughout the dense forest. They could bring down even a heavy horse like Belle was riding; and the girl despite her strong personality was delicate...

The sudden thought of that beautiful girl lying dead in the snow, her throat torn open and blood into the snow making a red-pink pool around her motionless, cold, lifeless form made Beast's speed increase a hundred fold as he ploughed through banks of snow.

He mustn't—no, Beast _would_ not let that be her fate. She must be saved. She was the only one who could save him now. This was his last chance.

Beast had a feeling deep down inside his soul that this would be his _only _chance, that the Enchantress continued to watch him and was testing him with this girl in the final months before this curse would become permanently upon him.

That it was only through some small mercy, (only granted by the Enchantress' good will, and that of the divine heavens above,) that a mademoiselle had come to...could _possibly_ end his misery.

The Prince found the horseshoe tracks in the snow and trailed them to a point when Beast caught his breath. As he feared, wolf tracks had joined those of Belle's horse. He looked over and saw they lead all the way to the river edge and there was a massive break in the middle of the semi-frozen river and as the tracks stopped on the river bank; Beast assumed they'd tried escaping across the river which was not yet solid.

Backing up a bit, Beast knew a trail that lead to an old bridge and would take him right around, it should be enough to get to the girl on time.

Racing down the riverbank edge, Beast found the old bridge and crossed it, clambering up the slippery bank on the other side he pushed forward through the icy wind; he couldn't track any scents because of it. He heard a woman's frightened scream nearby. It was Belle...was he too late?

Beast pushed the worried thought from his mind as he scrambled through the thorny growth, skidding to a halt near a cleared, snow covered area he saw the girl lying prone on the ground, surrounded by a pack of wolves.

The vicious pack were surrounding her and one had a hold of her cape, holding her down while another wolf was about to lunge for her exposed throat. Belle held up her hand to her face and let out a terrified scream.

Without a moment's hesitation Beast jumped though the air and grabbed hold of the wolf by the scruff of the neck before he could lay a tooth on Belle.

Whipping around the dishevelled creature, Beast roared dangerously into the animal's snarling features and tossed the wolf aside, bending down beside Belle protectively. He eyed off the pack of wolves carefully. _Which one was the alpha_? Beast knew from past experience that if he took out the alpha male or female, all the pack of wolves would scatter.

Identifying what looked like one of the dominate creatures, Beast lunged forward and moved to attack, but the entire pack leapt forward also; their yellow eyes set on the much bigger creature. The wolves sharp teeth and claws digging into Beast's thick brown coat, and biting down hard in an effort to bring him down.

Beast let out a pain filled roar as they all set on him, ripping at tearing not only on his flesh but slicing his cloak to pieces. _I have to knock out the dominate creature_! Beast's only thought pounded in his mind as he tumbled into the snow covered ground, reaching over with his mighty paw he pulled off one of the wolves latched to his shoulder, and tossed it to the ground.

Yet another wolf jumped on his back and the rest were surrounding him, when Beast went to dispose of yet another wolf, they all jumped upon him, digging in their teeth with vicious intent.

With a howl of pain, Beast through off one of the creatures and all of a sudden the pack scattered. Exhaustedly, the enchanted Prince realised at last he'd gotten one of the alphas, taking in a deep heavy breath as he heard the wolves frightened whimpering as they raced off back into the forest. Beast turned to where he'd left the girl lying on the ground.

He snorted in relief as he saw Belle on her feet, standing next to her saddled heavy horse. Her wide brown eyes set on him and her beautiful hair loose and tangled, fluttering about her shoulders in the wind like she was an angel...

_As long as she's all right...she is...she_... Beast let out a low moan and his eyes rolled into the back of his head, falling into darkness, he didn't even feel the cold wetness of the snow, as his bloodied form landed hard in a huddled heap to the ground.

-xxx-

"_Adam..."_

_Beast's head lifted up. He was outside the mausoleum where his family for the past three generations had been buried. Calling to him was that voice, strong and gentle all at the same time. Beast knew that voice. There was a soft light glowing inside the mausoleum that he could see through the window and through the cracks of the door._

"_Père?" He whispered. Was he dead? Had his father come for him? _

_Pulling his arms over his head, Beast moaned. He didn't want his father to see him like this. Must he carry the burden of this cumbersome, vicious curse even to the afterlife? Let them send him to Hell, so long as his father would not have to see him this way...what if his maman and Christine saw him this way as well? The enchanted Prince began to sob._

_The door of the tomb began to open and the almost blinding glow; a tall figure was outlined in the glow, standing in the doorway. "Mon fils?" Mon fils?" Again Beast could hear Christophe's gentle voice. "Is it you?"_

_Struggling to his feet, Beast slowly backed away from the mausoleum, but found himself being pulled back, pulled closer to the open door by some strong force he couldn't fight... _

_No, he would not face his father this way. No, no..._

"Monsieur?" A heavenly voice penetrated his dreams and Beast's eyes snapped open. Groggily he close them again as dizziness set in.

Shaking his large head, Beast slowly open his eyes this time. Hazy features of a young woman slowly started to meld together, and the picturesque face of Belle was peering down at him...maybe he was dead. _No angel could be more beautiful_...

Beast blinked a couple of times and looked around. He was seated in his favourite chair in the sitting room in front of a fire.

Mrs Potts and Chip, Lumière, Cogsworth, Babette and Sultan were standing hesitantly beside Belle...

_Belle?_

Beast suddenly realised something and his eyes widened. The girl had had her chance to escape. She could have left him there in the snow to die and gone back to the village and her father, but she hadn't. The Prince was genuinely startled. "How...why?" He whispered.

The young woman raised a thin brown eyebrow and tucked a strand of her loose hair behind her ear as she pulled back from her position leaning over him, kneeling on the ground beside a gold basin with a cloth resting inside it. "I couldn't leave you there," she said plainly, lifting up Mrs Potts and pouring hot water into the basin.

_Couldn't? Or was frightful of me chasing after you if I came to?_ Beast grumblingly thought, looking down at his right arm he saw severe teeth marks penetrating deep down into his fore arm. Letting out a wincing growl as he lifted the sore arm to his mouth and began to lick at the bloody scrapes.

"Here now!" Belle's gentle voice called out in alarm as she was suddenly back at his side and reached out with her hand. "Don't do that," she pleaded.

Beast let out a concerned growl and pulled back from Belle's touch. Why should she tell him what to do? He was perfectly capable of tending to his own wounds...besides, wouldn't boiling water make his wound feel worse? _What is she thinking?_

The servants backed away as Belle proceeded to try and place the hot cloth over Beast's wounded arm, which he had clutched in his left hand and was trying to dodge the young woman's efforts.

"Just hold still," Belle continued to beg as she moved about the cloth almost like a weapon.

_Damn persistent creature...! _Beast's further thoughts of annoyance were cut off when Belle finally succeeded in placing the searingly hot cloth on his exposed wound.

"_Rwaaaaaaaaarrrr!_" Beast exclaimed in alarm, turning to glare down at Belle's stern features. "_That hurt_!" He yelled at her with such force it blew the hair away from her face and the servants dove for cover behind a small table.

Belle leaned forward with her mouth set in a stubborn line, "if you would hold still it wouldn't hurt as much!" She pointed out with a yell of her own back in his face.

Beast lowered his defensive stance only slightly. _This was all her fault and she is acting like I did this to myself_! "If you hadn't of run away, this wouldn't of happened," he almost smirked as he motioned to his wound. _There_. He finally gotten the better of her...

"If you hadn't frightened me I wouldn't have run away!" Belle countered with an outraged tone in her voice, pointing away from herself for emphasis.

The mouth of the Prince turned Beast dropped open in surprise, she dared even now to contradict him? He turned his gaze aside..._maybe she was right, I really shouldn't have._.._wait a moment_...

"Well..._you,_" Beast pointed at her. "Shouldn't have been the West Wing," he shot back with a self-satisfied smirk, making a fist with his uninjured paw and resting it on the chair's arm-rest; he stared at Belle expectantly, with the smirk getting wider across his face.

Belle's had folded her slim arms and turned her head to the side, her eyes enlarged with outrage and she turned back to Beast to be only centimetres away from his fanged features; indignation making her natural boldness stronger. "Well _you_ should learn to control your temper!" She said every bit as firmly.

Stubborn brown eyes locked with furious blue ones and Beast huffed.

No-one had contradicted him like this in years. Not even his own mother had ever spoken to him in this manner; his father hadn't the time to discipline him. Mrs Potts had only chastened him once or twice that he could remember, but always negotiated with him, never confronting him in this manner.

Mulishly, Beast narrowed his eyes and put on the sulky expression he hadn't worn in as many years as not being reprimanded, leaning his mighty head on his fisted left paw resting on the armrest; glancing over at Belle as she took his arm...her hand was so soft, like his mother's, like Christine's. But there was a slight firmness to her skin from years of physical labour.

Beast was quite at loss to understand completely the effect of such a gentle motion on his emotional state.

"Now hold still, this might sting a little," Belle informed him once again.

The enchanted Prince was still slightly dazed from her touch, "mmph," he slowly mumbled, then he felt the stinging warmth of the cloth on his wound and grunted loudly from the pain of it, lurching his head aside, his eyes shut firmly. _Some hulking monster I'm supposed to be, now I'm in pain from being attacked by a five foot two slip of a girl and a hot rag_...

He could feel Belle's continuing patting of his wound with the cloth when her soft voice broke the silence.

"By the way, thank-you, for saving my life."

Beast opened his eyes and looked down at the young woman in surprise. After waiting so long for a word of gratitude from her lips and seeing the true gratuity in her lovely expressive eyes he lowered his head down to her level, "you're welcome," he murmured.

Belle nodded her head and continued to nurse his wound.

"Master, did you really defeat a whole pack of wolves?" The bright, chirpy voice of Chip interrupted the quiet that was again descending, Beast looked over to where his servants had again moved forward to stand beside Belle.

"Hush up now Chip, it's past your bedtime and you know better than to disturb the Master with silly questions," Mrs Potts kindly admonished the bright eyed youngest of her sons.

The enchanted Prince almost smiled, it was like the way he used to beg Capitaine Amable and his Père for stories.

"It's alright Mrs Potts," Beast said quietly, looking down seriously at the small teacup. "I did," he admitted, the almost smile returning when he saw Chip's eyes lit up by the firelight widening even further. He must be softening with age, the boy wasn't as annoying any more.

Mrs Potts smiled down at her son, and then looked up at the Master. "Well then sir, if you don't need us any further...Miss Belle?" Her blue eyes turned to the young woman wringing out the cloth in the basin, Belle looked calmly over and shook her head.

Beast cleared his throat nervously, "no I think...I think the Mademoiselle is doing a good job," he eyed his maître 'd who was smiling encouragingly. "You can all go for the evening if you wish."

The tone of voice was, for a change, kind, but firm. The servants all, but the confused Chip and his dog-turned-footstool, smiled to themselves. It was time to leave those two alone for a little while.

Belle could clearly hold her own and Beast seemed to be placated, they could start to get to know one another now.

"Of course Master, heh heh, splendid," Cogsworth bowed and Mrs Potts followed after him as Chip looked up hopefully.

"But I wanted to hear more about the wolves!" The boy complained. "I'm not sleepy," Christopher Potts argued with a stifled yawn, Mrs Potts waddled back and nudged her son. "No Mama..."

"Oh yes my son. Goodnight Master, goodnight Miss Belle," Mrs Potts beamed, leading her son up the stairs and out to where Cogsworth was waiting. Sultan yawned and curled up in front of the fire.

Lumière looked over the charming scene with a wide smile and put his arm around Babette, who had her eyes half-lidded with emotion at the tender way Belle was taking care of Beast.

"Come cherie. Call if you need anything Master, Mademoiselle Belle," Lumière looped his arm around Babette's waist and murmured softly to her as they exited the room.

Beast half-wished they hadn't left as he'd never been left alone with a young woman before. But the sweet quietness of the situation seemed somehow right, he wanted to know all about Belle. "So Mademoiselle, how old are you?"

Belle looked surprised up at him as she reached for some clean bandage cloth, "hmm? Oh I am nineteen. My birthday was last week, it was on the seventeenth," she revealed, starting to wrap the binding around his forearm.

Beast took a mental note, _the seventeenth of November_...

The young woman looked up as she went about her task. "How old are you?"

Beast swallowed, "I'm twenty," he answered. "Are you engaged or wedded, Mademoiselle?" Beast inquired worriedly. _Nineteen...she could have been married for a few years by now..._

The brunette woman shook her head as she wound around the bandages. "no I am not. I suppose you think it's strange for a peasant girl to still be without a beau or husband at my age," Belle pointed out with a raised eyebrow. Beast nodded in relief and the young woman sighed.

"Well, I'm not from around here. I was born in Paris...have you ever been there?"

Beast paused, feeling the weight of her gaze._ Did she suspect something_? "Oh...not really." It was a half-truth. He'd only ever been in and out of the palaces; and to high class cafés...perhaps the gardens. He'd never been completely around the actual town.

Belle looked like she didn't fully believe him, but continued to tie up his bandage with practiced ease.

"Well my father and I only moved to Tarbes four years ago. Not that I haven't been asked to marry, repeatedly." With the slight annoyance in Belle's voice, the enchanted Prince could definitely hear that her accent was decidedly more refined, more precise than that of the peasants of the Gascogne villages Beast could remember. "But I'm still considered a bit of an outcast in the town."

"You? An outcast? But you're so beautiful!" Beast exclaimed in disbelief.

Belle finished her tying and double knotted the bandage for security, resting her hands on her lap she sighed heavily."So I've been told. The villagers call me a _beauty but a funny girl._ They think that it is odd for a young woman, especially a young, _attractive_ peasant woman, to read," the girl tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. "I suppose you think it is odd as well, Monsieur?"

Beast cocked his head to the side, "I...I must admit I have never heard of such a thing before. Was your father a scholar?" He was trying to remember the niceties of conversation, while studying the perfect line of Belle's jaw; the elegant neckline that ran down to her curvy breast.

She was still such a wonder to him...

Belle caught his eye with a wary expression and Beast blushed under his fur.

"My Papa? Yes, he is a scientist and an inventor," she tucked her legs underneath her. "Do you have parents? I don't mean to presume as this is an enchanted castle, but...do you have a mother or a father? Or any siblings?"

Beast nodded sadly, "yes," he admitted, Belle's brown eyes filled with curiosity. "So you like to read. Does everyone make fun of you?" He attempted to change the conversation, and the young woman reached over to stroke the head of the sleeping Sultan absent-mindedly.

"I suppose. Most of the time behind my back, except once in Paris. I was only a little girl, I was reading in the park and a young nobleman approached me. He was only a boy and I found out later he was a Prince. He asked me why I was reading a book as I was a girl," Belle tilted her head to the side and Beast's mouth dropped open a little.

"..._what is a girl like you reading such a thick book, and a book all together?"_

The young woman continued to tell her tale. "I said something like a girl may read a book if she pleases just as he would if he pleased, and for all the money in the world he could have, all the learning he could do, he told me he didn't like books," Belle looked over at Beast with a soft smile. "I later realised how sad he had seemed, rather than ignorant. His father died later that day and I saw the funeral...Monsieur?"

Beast tried to keep his emotion in check. He remembered how that little girl...the same Belle here with him now, had been the only one to stand up to him as a child. Was this part of the Enchantress plan?

"...Monsieur?" Belle voiced again, Beast looked over to see that she was again seated beside him on the floor. "I was told in the village that the boy, Prince Adam de Gascogne, lived alone in a castle on the edge of the district; but they told stories of how they hadn't heard from him in ten years. I saw a slashed painting upstairs in your room," she continued and Beast nodded uncertainly.

"It bore an uncanny resemblance to the Prince from what I could remember. Was this his castle?"

Beast paused and looked away, "it is late and I am tired," he looked back at Belle who looked more curious than ever before. "Thank-you for the bandage, would you like me to call Lumière or Cogsworth to escort you to your room?" He got to his feet and Belle got to her own, she tilted her head as she looked up at him.

"I wouldn't like to bother them. Perhaps if you would like to?" The cautious offer made Beast feel warm inside and he inclined his head in surprise.

"Of course, if you wish," the Prince mumbled, Belle gave him a small smile without showing her teeth and Beast remembered to offer his uninjured arm, the girl looked hesitant and Beast dropped his arm hurriedly. "I'm sorry, follow me." He lowered his head, thinking how he wished Belle had linked her arm around his; he wanted to feel her touch again.

They walked slowly down the hall and then began to ascend up the stairs, Belle kept close to him and kept silent. They finally reached Christine's room and Beast opened up the door for the young woman, she stepped inside the doorway and Beast rubbed the back of his neck shyly. He knew what he wanted to say.._.just say it_! He admonished himself.

"Mademoiselle," Beast called out to the beautiful girl, who was in the process of closing the door and peered around the edge, blinking up at him with her huge eyes. "I'm...sorry that I frightened you. If it's any consolation, I never would have laid a hand on you. I never will. You do not have to call me Monsieur, you may call me Beast," he whispered the last part.

He watched Belle's eyes crinkle in the corners, "thank-you Beast, please call me Belle." She inclined her head and then shut the door firmly.

Beast let out a sigh and ran his hand over his face. _I can call her Belle, that is a very good start...I think. _He looked thoughtfully down at his shredded clothing, for the past few years he'd worn nothing but these rags. It had to stop.

He was a Prince, despite his outward appearance. Perhaps if he could have the long forgotten tailors make him some new clothing Belle might relax around him a little more if Beast at least dressed like a human.

Nodding his large head, Beast raced down the stairs and headed towards where the castle habilleur and tailor last resided. He hoped that they hadn't rusted away.

-xxx-

_The room was lit up dimly with candles and a perfume that smelled like roses wafted through the air. From his position on the bed Beast looked around what looked like his chambers, but restored to their elegant glory as they had been ten years ago. _

_He whipped around his head right when he felt a weight on the bed._

_It was Belle. Dressed only in a simple white nightgown cut low over her shoulders, her hair trailing down her back in perfectly brushed waves._

"_Belle," the Prince whispered, no growl behind his voice, it was soft and a deep. Beast looked down at his hands, they were human, bare of any heavy fur with only a little fair hair. Was this a dream? It had to be..._

"_Shh," Belle hushed as she moved towards him, Beast swallowed hard as his eyes travelled over her beautiful features and down her long neck to the curve of her breasts which were almost visible through the delicate fabric; her rounded hips and her slender legs edging ever closer to him._

_Beast reached out with his hand to cup her beautiful face, and all of a sudden Belle pulled back with a horrified scream, panicked Beast looked to see that it was a massive paw. Belle had crawled all the way to the edge of the bed and had her hand held up to her mouth in horror as she continued to scream._

"_No!" Beast grabbed the offending paw and screamed, "Nooo..."_

"No!"

Beast sat up on his broken bed with a start and tried to control his erratic breathing, gasping in a deep breath he ran his hand over his head. Well this was a new sensation. The uncontrollable desire he had felt for Belle as she'd disappeared into her room last night had somehow manifested itself into a dream, a dream unbelievably real and full of...

_Bitterness._

The Prince sighed heavily. For all the fact that he wanted to pull Belle close and feel her form meld to his own, Beast knew it wasn't possible in this form. She wouldn't even lay a hand on him, let alone give herself to him.

Calming himself down Beast folded his arms and flung his powerful legs over the side of the bed. This was his chance to change back to being human, it was time start to prove to Belle that he could be the lover and husband she needed.

When he'd first saw her all he wanted to do was force her to fall in love with him, now...

Beast got to his feet and stretched out his tight limbs, "now," he murmured to himself. "I don't want to pressure her. I just want her to love me," the strangeness of saying that word. He'd always just assumed people were meant to love him, his parents, Christine, his servants, his subjects...the Prince didn't need to garner their love by word or deed. But Belle's love on the other hand needed to be earned.

"Michel!" Beast called out loudly. "Michel!"

After a moment of silence, one of the side doors opened and a coat rack peered around, the rounded knob that served as a head looked around the door and Michel approached Beast; the valet bowed deeply as he stopped a few feet away.

"Have the tailors brought any of the clothes yet?" He demanded, Michel nodded. "Well then, draw a bath and lay out something simple," Beast ordered. Michel perked up slightly and bowed deeply again, rushing off in the direction of the _salle de bains_ to make a toilette for his Master; whom sat back down on the bed and almost smiled.

The Prince of Gascogne knew it was up to him now. It was up to Belle.

-xxx-

Lumière and Cogsworth stood hesitantly outside the doors to the Master chambers, each one after a moment lifted up their hand to knock on the doors, then drew it back. They both eyed each other cautiously.

"Do you think we would be disturbing him? Perhaps it's a little too early for him?" Cogsworth ventured with a wince. He didn't know if his hearing could handle another close roar from the Master.

Lumière drew himself up to his full height, "this is pointless and very cowardly of us, mon ami. I am taking the initiative," he knocked on the doors and a soft baritone with a slight growl behind it answered.

"_Enter_!"

The candelabra and the mantle-clock looked again at each other, they couldn't reach the door handles. "Master, it is Cogsworth and Lumière," Cogsworth called out. There was a moment of silence, then wooden sounding footsteps as the horn-like handle pulled down and Michel opened up the door. "Thank-you Michel," Cogsworth nodded his head as he and Lumière wondered into the cluttered room.

Pushing past a broken chair, Cogsworth cleared his throat as he moved. "Well Master, Mademoiselle Belle has already had her breakfast and is exercising her horse, (his name is Philippe by the way,) in the gardens. I thought you might want to..." He trailed off as his gaze finally landed on Beast; who was standing in the middle of the room, dressed in clean, dark blue breeches and a plain white shirt and his fur combed to a sheen.

While Cogsworth stood nearby with his mouth open, Lumière beamed and nudged his counterpart, hopping over towards the Master as Michel wondered over and whipped around a blue cloak, and pined in with a lighter blue broach at the nape of Beast's neck.

"You look magnificent Master. Perfect for a day of romantic pursuits," the maître d' praised with a flair of his arms, much impressed that his former charge was beginning to take control of the situation.

Cogsworth recovered from his initial shock and clasped his grasping hands together with equal delight as he sided up beside Lumière. "Oh yes, splendid! Quite splendid!"

Beast raised his eyebrows with a tired smile, "thank-you, but don't overdo it. I can't even wear a pair of boots," he pointed out.

Lumière smiled sympathetically, "oh, do not despair Master. Soon you will be able to wear boots again and be quite yourself once more," he reassured the Prince, who ran his hand over his face.

"I'm not sure if I remember...I was a boy...I don't know what I'll be like if I transform back," Beast replied, moving out towards the balcony.

Cogsworth looked over at Lumière who shrugged his shoulders. "Don't shrug. He has a point. We've been told we'll be exactly the same, but goodness knows what sort of scars his highness might carry, after he's transformed back after growing up inside the body of a hunting beast." He muttered to the maître d', who nodded resignedly as they hopped after their master.

Beast moved towards the balcony edge and rested his arms atop the railing. Looking out he could see Belle, dressed in a simple green satin dress he could remember Christine wearing; with her blue cloak draped about her shoulders with the hood pulled up, partially obscuring her face from this distance, as she lead her heavy horse through the snow covered grounds.

Lumière and Cogsworth hopped up on the railing beside him and also looked out, both wearing hopeful smiles.

"Oolala, even from this distance she is quite a picture, is she not Master?" Lumière questioned with a raised eyebrow in Beast's direction. His Master stayed silent, but there was a soft look in his eyes, neither the maître d' or majordome had seen before, as he looked upon the girl, who had her head down.

"She looks sad," Beast replied non-committally, his voice low and worried. But as he voiced his concern he saw Belle's horse nudge her with his muzzle and the girl turned around to hold his head in her arms with a small, sweet smile. As she did, Sultan came barrelling through the garden, barking exuberantly as he rushed past Belle and crashed into a snow drift.

Shaking himself off, the red velvet footstool went dashing back through the snow in Belle's direction, whimpering happily as she knelt down and let him leap into her arms. Belle's hood slipped off her head and she closed her eyes, bursting into a happy laugh as she cuddled the dog-turned-footstool close.

Beast looked down at his bandaged arm. She was so gentle and good. He'd never met anyone apart from his family and servants that had ever cared for him as kindly as Belle had nursed him last night. "I've never felt this way about anyone," he admitted softly to Lumière and Cogsworth, the Prince perked up."I want to do something for her." He frowned in thought. _What could I do to make her happy?_

"But what?" Beast looked over at his servants for advice. They were men, Lumière in particular was always flirting with maids and Cogsworth had always been close with Madame de la Grande Bouche, they must have some sort of suggestions for a present for Belle.

"Well there's the usual things: flowers, chocolates," Cogsworth numbered off on his left grasping hand, before folding both his grasping hands behind his back. "Promises you don't intend to keep," he added with a muffled chuckle to himself as he closed his eyes.

Beast raised his brow. _Why would I make a promise to Belle then break it on purpose_...?

Lumière nudged his counterpart with a knowing glance, "ah no, no. It has to be something very special," he admonished Cogsworth, who looked over at him with a slight grin as he folded his arms, and looked up at the Master who was watching them intently, hanging on every word. "Something that sparks her interest—wait a minute!" The candelabra looked delighted as he worked it out.

"What? What is it?" Beast demanded, Lumière beamed and pressed his candlestick hands together.

"Your father's library. Before she interrupted you last night we were taking her on a tour of the castle, and when we mentioned the library she seemed quite excited."

Beast mirrored the smile, (the shock of seeing such a thing nearly sent Cogsworth falling off the side of the castle in surprise.) "Of course! She told me last night she liked to read," he paused, looking over at his maître d'.

"Lumière, do you remember the day of the accident, in the park in Paris, the little girl on the garden bench I confronted about reading? That was Belle. I found out last night when we were talking. She doesn't know that I was the boy she met."

Lumière raised his brow in astonishment, "well that is a surprise. I remember that well. I told you to be more gentle, eh?" he looked over at Cogsworth then back at their Master. "The Enchantress?"

Beast pulled back from the railing and folded his arms, "I expect so," he shook his head. "Never mind. Have Chef Bouche send up something to eat, then inform me when Belle comes back into the castle, I'll give her the library alone," the Prince said firmly.

The two head servants bowed and hopped off of the railing, heading back to carry out their Master's orders with more than a bit of a smile.

-xxx-

Cogsworth had come rushing into the Master chambers to tell Beast the moment Belle had come back into the castle.

Beast had all but bolted out of his rooms and down the hall, stopping to a skidding halt at the top of the main stairs to walk slowly down to where one of the coat rack servants was taking Belle's cloak from her. The girl had seen him skid to a halt and tried to hide a smile.

Beast approached her carefully across the foyer. "Good-morning Belle," he greeted softly.

The brunette mademoiselle looked up at him with a still wary glint in her light brown eyes, "good-morning Beast," Belle looked him over. "You look well."

Glad for a change for the fur that covered up his blushing, Beast ducked his head, "thank-you. You look very nice too, green suits you," he complimented as best as he could.

Belle looked over the green satin gown with the velvet bodice and shook her head."I've never worn anything so beautiful in my life, and Madame Bouche has so many lovely gowns. I feel terribly out of sorts wearing such expensive things," she admitted shyly.

Beast shook his head as the Belle looked down at her feet, "you mustn't, really! You should have all the most beautiful dresses in the world and I insist you wear every one Madame Bouche gives you," Beast implored sincerely. The young woman's head snapped up cautiously.

"Is that an order?" The tone carried a worried tone that Beast was threatening her again, the Prince blushed again.

"No...no its a request, of course you can just wear your clothes...I was just..."

Belle gave him a small smile but it wasn't the happy smile Beast had seen in her give in the gardens to the animals. "It's all right," she assured him, giving Beast a moment to compose himself and remember why he was there.

"Oh... Lumière mentioned that he and Cogsworth took you on a tour of the castle last night," Beast put his hands behind his back and tapped them together nervously.

Belle folded her arms, "well yes. But we didn't quite finish it, I didn't see the northern part of the castle," she admitted. Beast spread his arms a little bit more exuberantly than he intended.

"Well then I shall take you, that is if you'd like me to," Beast stammered anxiously.

The Parisian beauty unfolded her arms and inclined her head."Thank-you, that would be very kind," the young woman agreed.

Beast rubbed his paws together, he hope she would like her surprise. He wanted her so much to feel comfortable here, comfortable around him."Alright then, let's go," he motioned towards the stairs and Belle set off before him, her delicate green slippered feet making virtually no sound as she scaled up the red velvet carpeted stairs.

Beast stood locked in place and watched her graceful movement with enrapture. He bet that she was a wonderful dancer, a graceful ballerina; the enchanted Prince was struck by the sudden thought that he'd love to see her dance...

Belle stopped mid-way and turned with a raised eyebrow at the Master of the castle still down in the entrance foyer, blinking her large eyes. "Oh Beast? I thought you were coming..."

The Prince stopped his staring and nodded, "yes, yes I'm coming," he almost tripped on his way up the stairs to where Belle was waiting, the young woman continued to walk and Beast trailed after her; Belle's hair was tied back in a ponytail with a green ribbon in a neat bow. He wondered what those soft looking, brown tresses would feel like in his hands...would he ever have a chance to know?

"We turn up here," Beast directed down a hall. Belle followed his arm moments and soon they were walking down a brightly lit corridor with magnificent marble columns.

All along the elegant corridor were elegant oil paintings and portraiture in carved gold foil frames, Beast had forgotten the many paintings in the North Wing. Ignoring the many landscape paintings, the Prince glanced wearily at the paintings of his ancestors; the ones of his parents, the paintings of Christine and his long dead twin sisters...

Belle stopped suddenly at a rather large portrait in a gold filigree frame and stared. "The boy...I'm sure that is the Prince I met in Paris, Prince Adam de Gascogne," the girl exclaimed. Beast stopped in his tracks and sided up beside her, looking up at the family portrait painted just outside the castle grounds. He remembered sitting for the portrait only a few months before his family was taken away from him.

Under the autumn foliage, his Maman, (facing the painter,) was reclining on a sculpted garden bench in a wide, blue and cream gown with delicate lace ruffles adorning the sleeves, and straw flat crowned hat with a blue ribbon tied around her chin. Christine stood beside her in a floral pink and yellow gown with the same style of hat and curled wig as their maman; but with a pink ribbon. His older sister's stance was sidewards and her gaze was resting sweetly down at their Maman.

His Père was dressed in his tan hunting outfit, a black tri-cornered hat with a gold band set atop his grey wig. His stance was relaxed, leaning against the garden bench with his gaze resting down on his only son. Beast shook his head at the small boy in a miniature of his father's hunting dress, but in blue as his Maman had always insisted he wore.

The boy was resting his hand on his maman's knee, and looking firmly out from the painting. His astonishing blue eyes glaring at the artist from his high-cheek boned features.

Beast remembered having this painting done. He'd never took into account how well it was painted, right down to the freshly shot hares and fowl, the green on the head of one of the mallards was exactly how he remembered it.

"All portraits now days are painted to a romantic ideal. They don't ever really look like the sitters," the Prince repeated what Cogsworth had explained once to him.

Belle looked closely at the painting and nodded. "I suppose so. I'm not very knowledgeable about art, still it is a lovely painting, has it always been here?" The young woman inquired, pressing for information.

Beast gave a non-committing grunt and continued to walk down the hall; glancing over his shoulder he saw Belle was looking once again at the painting, then she looked out of the corner of her eye at him and turned on her heel, a look of disbelief on her face.

The enchanted Prince suspected she wasn't going to give up on her investigation anytime soon; but already he could see Belle wasn't a terribly inquisitive person. She was curious perhaps, but patient.

How could she be all these wonderful things? Beast had always struggled with his temper and carrying a grudge. Yet Belle, even when annoyed, found it easy to forgive. Even saving his life when he didn't deserve it. Beast must try to be more like that, he could show Belle he wasn't a monster.

Beast looked up at the lofty doors at the end of the hall under a dark blue, gold thread edged tapestry banner with the Gascogne crest. The Prince wondered if Belle knew anything about family crests; but the young woman attention was on a landscape painting on the nearby wall, it was of the path leading out of the castle.

"I like this one. Is that what the grounds look like in the spring?" Belle inquired, brushing her pale hand against the canvas in marvel, Beast sided up to her and nodded his head, the girl looked up at him. "I expect I shall see it myself," she murmured, pulling back from the painting quickly; and Beast cleared his throat and walked back over to the doors, motioning to the girl.

Watching with curiosity, Belle stopped just behind Beast as he looked over at her kindly. "Belle, there's something I want to show you," he reached over to the gold handle on the right door, he opened it up slightly, then remembered how Christine had liked surprises and games. She'd make him close his eyes then give him whatever treat she'd procured, like chocolates, a new toy; sometimes a game she'd invented.

Beast started to close it again in a hurry and looked down at Belle who had inquisitively leant forward, "but first, you have to close your eyes," he asked softly with a smile and a motion of his paw.

Belle raised an eyebrow cynically, and her full mouth raised up slightly between a smile of scepticism and caution.

"It's a surprise," Beast insisted again with a insistent wave of his paw and a wider smile.

With a cautious last glance, Belle shut her eyes obediently. The Prince grinned in anticipation he hadn't felt in years, she was going to love this gift, he just knew it. He waved his paw in front of her eyes to check if she was peeking.

_No peeking mon doux amour_. Beast could hear his sister's pretty voice.

Bitting his lip to hold back his excitement, Beast opened up the doors and turned to face Belle, reaching out boldly for her hands...she let him take them!

The light grasp of those hands made him soar deep inside. The happiness shone over his features as he slowly backed into the library, leading Belle across the intricately tiled floor, past the shadowy outline of the two lions atop pedestals on either side of the doorframe and past the two desks he could remember labouring away on his lessons upon. (The one next to the huge globe of the earth still had books open on it.)

There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere, the servants had seen to that. But it was dimly lit so Beast couldn't be entirely sure. He wanted it to be perfect for Belle.

The young woman kept her eyes closed but seemed a little uneasy. "Can I open them?"

Beast was enjoying holding Belle's hands. Her skin was so soft and he hadn't felt the touch of a human hand since before last night. "No, no, not yet," he insisted. The curtains needed to be open and light let it so she could see the huge spectacle that, even as a child who hated books, he'd still been quite impressed with.

"Wait here," Beast whispered to Belle, lifting up her hands as he drew to a halt. He was loath to take his eyes off of her, but dropped her hand rushed across the room to the drapes.

Pulling aside the right curtain, immediately let the bright winter sun shine through, and when Beast dashed over to the left curtain the library was in full view, he looked around and saw everything was just as he remembered. Every single marble shelf right up to the ceiling filled with brightly coloured volumes going back hundreds of years. The balconies and the high staircases; the oblique, tall wooden ladders...

It was like going back in time.

The young woman in front of him had felt the warmth of the sunlight and Belle grinned a little. "Now can I open them?"

Beast looked down at her with anticipation and smiled broadly, "all right, now," he lifted up his hands and motioned to her, _I hope she likes it..._

Belle's lovely eyes opened up slowly and looking up she let out a little gasp of astonishment and a genuine, happy smile graced across her face as she clasped her hands in front of her, wondering around with her head craned upwards with an expression of delight. "I can't believe it!" She exclaimed and Beast smiled in relief. "I've never seen so many books in all my life!"

The Prince turned beast watched Belle twirl around with hesitation. She looked happy. But was it enough that Belle could see he wasn't trying to treat her like a prisoner? That he thought that this was something she genuinely would like as a present? "You...you like it?" He invoked softly, following around her spinning anxiously. _Please_ _tell me you like it_.

Belle couldn't take her eyes off of the numerous shelves filled with thousands of books. "It's wonderful!" She exclaimed with enchantment, clasping her hands together.

Beast beamed. _She liked it_. It was time to tell her the good news, he hoped she would accept his gift. "Then it's yours!" He granted with a wide smile he'd never worn before. Belle looked up at him and grabbed his paws in her hands, which were so tiny in comparison.

"Oh thank-you so much!" She gratefully squeezed his paws and Beast blushed under his fur. No-one had ever thanked him so genuinely for anything before and the enrapture on Belle's beautiful face when she'd seen the library for the very first time was a memory he knew he'd carry with him always.

"Can I pick a book to read right now?" She was as giddy as a child and Beast laughed, caught up in her excitement.

"Of course, they are all yours," he assured her.

Belle's smile grew even wider if that were possible and she practically skipped over to one of the lower shelves.

Beast let out a sigh of relief, she'd accepted his gift. That was another very important step. Now he need to spend all the time possible with the young woman to learn everything about her, to let Belle come to understand him.

He followed Belle's movements scanning all the books at her eye level, then he watched as she craned her neck upwards and let out a happy cry, "I don't believe it, _Le Morte d'Arthur,_" she pointed upward eagerly and glanced over her shoulder at Beast. "Could you get it down for me?"

Beast nodded and sided up to Belle, reaching up over her head to pull down the old, brown leather bound book with gilded edges. "Here you are," he handed it to her, and the young woman happily took it and held it tightly to her chest.

"I haven't seen this book since I was a little girl. It isn't fashionable to read, and it hasn't been printed in over a hundred years, fancy that! And here you have had it hidden away," Belle tutted and Beast cocked his head to the side.

"It is about King Arthur and Sir Lancelot and the rest of the knights of the round table, the Holy Grail and Guinevere and Tristan and Isolde..." She gazed down at the book fondly.

Beast scratched his head, "I think I remember it a little," he thought it might have been something his father had read to him at some point. "Would you...like to read it to me?" Beast inquired hesitantly. He hadn't had anyone read to him since he was eight, and he couldn't quite remember how to read himself.

Belle looked up from her musing and her eyes crinkled in the corners as she smiled, "I would love to. It is the least I can do for you giving me all this," she held the book in her right arm as she waved with her left around the library.

Beast offered her his arm and Belle placed her free hand on his upper-arm gently and allowed him to lead her to a pair of plush chairs.

Helping her down into one of the chairs, Beast took the opposite chair and pulled it closer to her, leaning forward eagerly.

The young woman rested the book across her lap and pulled it open, running her finger down the first page. "Chapter one: _How Uther Pendragon sent for the duke of Cornwall and Igraine his wife, and of their departing suddenly again_," she cleared her throat and began in her sweet, clear voice.

"_Il a advenir aux jours d'Uther Pendragon, quand il était le roi de toute l'Angleterre et a si régné, qu'il y avait un duc puissant à Cornouailles qui a tenu la guerre contre lui la longue période. Et on a appelé le duc le Duc de Tintagil. Et ainsi par le Roi de moyens Uther a fait venir ce duc, en l'ordonnant d'apporter à sa femme avec lui, car on l'a appelée une dame équitable et on a appelé un passage sage et son nom Igraine..._"

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Ah, mon dieu gentle readers, six chapters and many more to come, just to clear up a few things.

**One**: Belle is either the most patient, understanding woman without an ounce of curiosity about all those paintings and busts or she is an excellent liar, maybe both, she knew something was going on, we all know it.

**Two**: Beast is such a teddy bear in the scene when he gives Belle the library...just an observation but he's just so sweet, Robby Benson's voice is so gentle, that's why I like Adam human most of all, his voice is lovely.

**Three**: Back onto the story, I've had nearly two thousand hits and more and more people reading all the way to the fifth chapter, so cudos, don't be shy if there's something you don't like, the worst thing in the world is to read something, not like it and just complain to yourself when there's a wonderful feedback/review option, I'm not a squealy teenaged Twilight fan, (God help the poor little things who don't know any better,) and I welcome a criticism or two, BatB fans, throw your rotten tomatoes at will, they're welcome with open arms.

**Four**: As mentioned above I have spent the past three weeks of my recovery watching nothing but Disney, Monty Pythons Flying Circus, Blackadder, Full House, the Flintstones and the Simpsons, so now my brain hurts too, but please leave your review and spam, its all rather silly.

(Hint, check my profile, there's some fun information for all you readers and I'll be adding some more stuff soon. :) )


	7. 1791 x Des siècles passés

Over two thousands hits, thank-you everyone, I didn't think this story was going to be anything special but I guess I misjudged it, I hope you enjoy the following chapter and review away.

But first some answers:

**Hidden in the fourth wall: **Ah you picked up my little reference to dreams, and yeah, we know men dream about sex more, where as women tend to dream more about issues or problems they're dealing with in life, so I figured tit for tat, if Belle is dreaming about the mysterious Beast she's been imprisoned by and who he could really be, then Beast must be thinking about his desire for her.

**Mary: **Hmm, you know I have given a lot of thought as to where I'd like to take this story, perhaps even split it in two because I have a lot of plans, setting it in the 1790's means if I take it any further I go into one of my favourite periods, the Regency period. So it would mean a lot to me to be able to round out the story within that timeline, heading for early Victorian, but we'll see. I have a lot of ideas that keep unfurling themselves in my mind, so I'd keep half and eye out. There may already be an indication in this story as to what will happen after the spell breaks.

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**Chapter Seven**

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..._**N**__ay, said Arthur. Now, said Sir Ector to Arthur, I understand ye must be king of this land. Wherefore I, said Arthur, and for what cause? Sir, said Ector, for God will have it so; for there should never man have drawn out this sword, but he that shall be rightwise king of this land. Now let me see whether ye can put the sword there as it was, and pull it out again. That is no mastery, said Arthur, and so he put it in the stone; wherewithal Sir Ector assayed to pull out the sword and failed..._"

Beast snorted, "that's because Arthur is the true King," he interrupted with a slight sneer at the words of Sir Ector. Belle lifted her head from the heavy book on her lap and the Prince looked sheepish, he had remembered that part at least...or he thought he did.

"Well, it's true...isn't it?"

The young woman raised her left eyebrow and smiled indulgently. "You'll just have to wait and see," she almost teased him, and Beast folded his arms, leaning back on his chair with a resigned snort as he waited for Belle to continue. The mademoiselle cleared her throat and began to read the next part.

"_Now assay, said Sir Ector unto Sir Kay. And anon he pulled at the sword with all his might; but it would not be. Now shall ye assay, said Sir Ector to Arthur. I will well, said Arthur, and pulled it out easily. And therewithal Sir Ector knelt down to the earth, and Sir Kay. Alas, said Arthur, my own dear father and brother, why kneel ye to me? Nay, nay, my lord Arthur, it is not so; I was never your father nor of your blood, but I wot well ye are of an higher blood than I weened ye were..."_

"Ah ha!" Beast interrupted with a satisfied cry that nearly made Belle fall of her chair. "I was right, Arthur is the King," he pointed at her gleefully.

The young woman tucked a strand of her hair back into her ponytail and chuckled a little as well, "well now we've established that, shall I go on?" she pressed her hands together and Beast inclined his head. He'd forgotten that books could be thrilling, and not dreary, boring lines of words stacked atop one another; and to hear them read in Belle's beautiful voice, was both soothing and exciting at the same time.

Belle continued to read up until the seventh chapter, "..._there was he sworn unto his lords and the commons for to be a true king, to stand with true justice from thenceforth the days of this life. Also then he made all lords that held of the crown to come in, and to do service, as they ought to do_..."

"..._he overcame them all, as he did the remnant, through the noble prowess of himself and his Knights of the Round Table_." She closed the book and Beast smiled as he let the last imagined thought of brave Arthur surrounded by his many loyal knights fade away.

"I enjoyed that very much, thank-you Belle," Beast rested his head on his clenched paw as he watched Belle place the book down on the table beside her. "I remember being very fond of stories about Kings and Knights, Arthur seems most inspiring. I'm excited to find out what happens next, if you will read a little more to me tomorrow?" Beast ventured hopefully. _She will read to me again, wont she?_

Belle folded her hands on her lap, "of course. I'd be glad to. Arthur has much ahead of him. Kings and rulers often do. _Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown_..." she murmured knowingly.

Beast paused, he'd never heard that phrase before. "I have never heard that saying before, where is it from? What is it about?"

"It is from Shakespeare's _Henry IV. Part II_. It means that a person with great responsibilities, such as a king, is constantly worried," Belle patiently explained. The Prince-turned-beast looked further lost and the young woman folded her arms. "A good example is our King Louis whom has had his throne taken from him," she mentioned casually.

Beast's eyes widened, "how? When? How is that possible?" He had been cut off from the outside world for so long without messenger or invitation from Paris. He'd just thought the Enchantress had had something to do with that, he'd not realised something else might be afoot

The young woman opposite him looked surprised for a moment, then realised. "Oh...Louis and Marie Antoinette have been put under house arrest in _Palais des Tuileries_. It's uncertain what the revolutionaries have planned for them. I do feel sorry for their children, and for them also. Marie Antoinette was never very popular with the people of Paris, and they feared she was controlling Louis actions when he was ill. I believe they want to depose of the monarchy and the nobility rule."

Beast was surprised. Queen Marie Antoinette, dressed in colourful gowns and jewels, had always been so kind to him and sweetly spoken; she loved children and was always surrounded by entertaining things. "I had heard it spoken that Queen Marie was very gregarious," he murmured, Belle raised her eyebrow again and he noticed, clearing his throat.

"It must be quite late. Cogsworth! Lumière!" Beast roared out.

Almost immediately there was a small shuffling sound and the call out of, "yes your grace, we are coming post haste!" After a brief moment, the enchanted mantle-clock came skidding to a halt beside Beast's chair, Lumière arrived at a more leisurely speed and sided up next to his panting counterpart. "Yes Master, how can we be of..." Cogsworth took in a deep breath, "...service?"

Beast motioned to Belle, "take Belle for her noontime meal Cogsworth, then return. I need to discuss something with Lumière, and also with you," he ordered. The young woman stood up from the chair and folded her arms with a curious look.

"Are you going to join me?" Belle questioned, Beast looked blank. "For the meal?"

The Prince hesitated, he was quite shy about his eating habits. "Perhaps another time. Thank-you Belle," he declined with an apologetic smile. Belle nodded her head and Cogsworth motioned towards the door.

"Right this way Mademoiselle, I will return soon Master," Cogsworth bowed and Belle shot Beast a small smile before following the majordome across the huge room. Beast turned around in his chair to watch the young woman depart, his eyes affixed on her gentle swaying form.

"There is something so perfect in how she moves, almost like she's a ethereal being, not really there at all," Beast murmured to Lumière.

The candelabra was wearing a smug, knowing expression as he folded his arms. "I told you many years ago there were such women in the world. Mademoiselle Belle is truly enchanting and intelligent, she...suspects something, Master?" He questioned Beast, who had turned back around and was wearing a serious frown.

"I think she does. But Belle hasn't said anything yet. I want to tell her, but then she might feel obligated and the Enchantress might not approve of that. Make sure you remind the rest of the staff not to let on about anything just yet," Beast directed.

Lumière nodded as the Prince shook his head.

"But that is not why I'm upset. Belle has told me there is a revolution going in Paris, against my Great-Uncle Louis and the rest of the nobility."

Lumière's eyes widened. "Mon Dieu... I know that the people have been taxed terribly. I think your father suspected a revolution, he always spoke of the possibility of having to plan for such a scenario, but...Mademoiselle Belle is quite certain?"

Beast nodded his head and folded his arms, looking aside. "She explained that is why her and her father left Paris because there were already rumblings about such an event coming to pass. There is a strong possibility they will have the King and the nobility rule deposed," he mentioned.

The candelabra folded his own arms firmly as he looked up at his master. "I want you to know, your highness, if such an event comes to arise, I will never desert you. You will always have a loyal friend in myself," Lumière bowed deeply and a small smile passed across Beast's face.

"Thank-you Lumière. I think sometimes you are far too good to have to suffer through this with me. I haven't been very kindly these past years," the Prince apologised and Lumière smiled forgivingly.

"It is alright your highness," the maître d' replied kindly. "This curse has been a terrible blow and you have had to go through your most formative years trapped within another form," Lumière inwardly sighed. _At last_, _Belle's arrival is also having an impact on him mentally, I think he's finally growing out of temper tantrums..._

When Cogsworth arrived back, Beast repeated what he had told Lumière and the mantle-clock looked quite flustered.

"Good heavens, even if the spell is broken we will face many trials."

Beast got to his feet and put his hands behind his back, he walked over to the open window and looked outside into the snowy grounds where some groundskeepers-turned-shovels were clearing away some heavy drifts. "Perhaps not," he said only just loud enough for his majordome and maître d' to hear him, as they followed him over to the window.

"Is there something you know, Master?" Lumière, looking up at the hulking Prince, inquired curiously.

"Yes," Beast inclined his head, dipping it low so that his chin almost touched his furry chest. "Belle informed me that the villagers in Tarbes believe the castle to be abandoned because they haven't seen me in ten years. We might yet be safe here for the time being," he revealed.

Cogsworth sighed in relief and Lumière narrowed his brow. "Well I suppose that is all we can look forward to, being safe for the time being."

"Now Master," Lumière changed the subject. "Belle seemed very happy with her gift, and you spent a long time in here, any progress?"

Beast blushed under his fur as he looked down at his servants. "Progress? Oh...ah...she...read to me from one of her favourite books...is that good?" He questioned.

The mantle-clock and candelabra chuckled, but put on comforting smiles when they saw the displeased and embarrassed look on their master's disfigured face.

"Well...yes, she spent time with you and let you into her world by sharing one of her favourite books. That is wonderful progress," Lumière agreed confidently, Beast perked up and Cogsworth nodded his agreement. "Now you have an excuse for her to spend more time with you, which is an important first step."

-xxx-

The next few weeks Beast only saw Belle in the mid-morning, when she consented to read a little more _Le Morte d'Arthur_ to him.

However one morning the enchanted Prince drew up his courage and decided to join Belle for breakfast.

Awaking early, after he bathed Beast had Michel bring in a newly made, fine green silk coat embellished with gold edges. He wore it over a fine white shirt and black breeches; Beast's valet expertly tied the cravat and pined it, then did up the simple gold cord across Beast's chest. Michel used a brush to make sure there were no creases and surveyed the effect with a nod of his wooden head.

Arriving in the dining room, Mrs Potts was already laying out a place for Belle with two of the kitchen maids and her youngest son, her blue eyes widened with delighted surprise at the sight of her former charge dressed and looking uncomfortable, but trying to be confident.

"Why good morning Master," she turned to the sugar bowl. "Jacqueline, will you go to the china cupboard and send in another place setting for his highness," the teapot turned back to Beast as Jacqueline hopped away. "I hope the day finds you well, Master?"

Beast nodded and fiddled with his right sleeve as he walked over to the table, "yes, thank-you Mrs Potts. I hope you are well also," the Prince replied, the teapot nodded and Chip blinked up at their Master with a smile. "And how are you, Chip?"

With a enthusiastic smile the teacup hopped closer to Beast. "I'm great! Belle took me for a ride on Philippe yesterday and he goes really fast, Footstool couldn't keep up with us. I wanted my brothers and sisters to come but they don't want to leave the kitchen because..." Chip trailed off and Mrs Potts intervened even though Beast knew very well why the children wouldn't leave.

"Now now, your brothers and sisters don't have to come out if they don't want to," Mrs Potts looked softly up at the Master. "Miss Belle is presently dressing, would you like me to bring you out something before she arrives?"

The Prince-turned-beast shook his head, "no I'll wait for Belle, thank-you," he walked over to the windows and, unclasping his paws, pulled back the pink drapes to look outside for a while. Was it his imagination or were the perpetual mists that surround the forest beginning to lift slightly? Beast folded his arms.

_I'm so nervous…no scratch that, I'm beyond mere nerves._

"Good-morning Beast."

The enchanted ruler shut his eyes for the briefest second, revelling in the sound of the young mademoiselle's voice before turning around slowly and bowing stiffly. "Good-morning Belle," Beast lifted his blue eyes to linger over the woman. She was dressed in a pink silk gown with chiffon ruffles on the sleeves, and chiffon also adorning the neckline and hem; her bodice was a darker pink satin.

Beast smiled, for however lovely she had looked in green, cream, red and in blue, Belle's beauty seemed only magnified by the colour pink, (the Prince blushed to think how Belle would look _outside_ of the beautiful clothing she'd been wearing.)

The young woman curtsied and allowed Beast to lead her to a chair. As Belle sat down the Beast pushed her chair gently and rushed over to the other end of the table to sit down, so he could continue his gazing of her. The kitchen trolley was brought in and two piping hot bowls of porridge were placed on the table, one in front of Belle and the other in front of Beast.

After the sugar and milk were added to his bowl of porridge, Beast waited for Jacqueline and Amiee to hop over to attend to Belle's breakfast. As soon as the young woman had delicately lifted her spoon from the bowl, Beast dove into his bowl of porridge headfirst. He stopped his gorging and lifted up his head only when he heard a gasp from across the table.

Belle's gaze was resting on him with shock and the Prince realised, (as he swallowed the large amount of porridge that had been puffing out his cheeks and dribbling down his chin,) that he had been eating the wrong way. Beast went to wipe his mouth on his sleeve and, looking down, he saw Chip smile kindly up at him and nudge forward a silver spoon encouragingly as Mrs Potts looked fondly on her sweet son's instant reaction.

Lunging out clumsily, Beast picked up the piece of cutlery and dipped it into the porridge, attempting to slurp the contents into his jowls and failing miserably; placing the spoon back down on the table the enchanted Prince miserably looked down at the object, then glanced up in fear of what Belle's reaction now would be.

Then he saw the young woman had lifted up her bowl and was smiling kindly, and Beast smiled in heart-warming fashion in return. _She understands..._ he thought, lifting up his bowl and they toasted each other before drinking their breakfast.

Once they were done with the porridge, Mrs Potts poured tea into Chip for Belle and Beast helped himself to some of the freshly made baguette. (Mrs Potts accordingly noted that the Prince didn't eat the baguette plain, and was spreading butter and currant jam heavily on the bread.)

"So Belle," Beast spoke up as he placed the knife back down and took a much more sensible bite then usual of the baguette, "what are your plans for today?"

Belle took a sip of tea and lifted up her dark brown eyebrows thoughtfully.

"I thought I would go for a walk around the gardens, perhaps feed the poor little birds in this weather before the heavy snow arrives," Belle revealed as she held Chip between her hands. Beast nodded as he finished off the baguette and brushed the crumbs out of his furry chin, the young woman leaned forward.

"Would you like to join me?"

Beast lifted up his head and his blue eyes sparkled, "oh...oh yes, yes I would be happy to join you Belle," he looked like he was fit to burst with delight and Chip looked over at his mother to see her smiling with pure joy at the simple exchange.

The tea-cup frowned and looked up at Belle, "can I come too Belle? Pretty plea—"

Mrs Potts jumped in, "oh you have no time for that Chip. There's chores to be done, and you need a bath. Good-morning Master, Miss Belle," the teapot nudged her protesting son onto the trolley. Amiee and Jacqueline bowed to Beast and Belle before also hopping on the enchanted cart that drove them back towards the kitchen, Chip complaining loudly about yet another bath as they left.

Belle got to her feet and Beast stood up quickly after she did so, memories of proper etiquette slowly starting to come back to him."I will go put on a cloak and meet you beside the back of the kitchen door," she gave a quick curtsey and Beast, still wearing a silly grin, nodded and gave a short bow in response as Belle gave him a last small smile before exiting the room.

_At last_, Beast thought, rubbing his paws together_. I have a chance to be alone with Belle outside of the library...but feeding birds_...? He furrowed his furry brow in thought. _I've never done such a thing, don't birds gather their own food?_

-xxx-_  
_

Hurrying back to his chambers, Beast pulled off his soiled coat and pulled out a deep purple cape, wrapping it about his shoulders he pinned it with the broach holding his cravat and brushed off his breeches. Letting out a deep sigh he straightened his shoulders and headed back down stairs.

Beast's uneasy footsteps out of the castle door eventually turned into nervous pacing outside of the kitchen door as he waited for Belle; the snow crunching under his foot pads as he paced. Finally the door opened and Belle emerged, draped in a mauve, woollen, white fur-lined cloak he remembered very well. It was the last Christmas present Christine had received from their parents.

But for some reason the cloak seemed so right on Belle, the dark reddish-pink colour contrasting with her pale skin and huge brown eyes very perfectly.

She smiled kindly at him as she delicately stepped down the few stone stairs. Belle's dainty hands were holding the folds of her skirt and Beast looked down to see a pile of breadcrumbs she was holding in the folds. Stepping past him with her gentle, swaying step, Beast clasped his hands behind his back as he followed Belle across the snowy grounds.

The sun was out, making the pale, powdery snow appear to be glistening, Belle lifted her head. "I can hear some birds," she announced.

Beast looked up and saw sure enough there were tiny little colourful birds encircling, chirping and whistling as they glided over head.

"It must be nice to be able to fly away like they do," Beast murmured.

Belle looked back at him with a confused, almost touched, expression as she moved a little bit further and then reached into the folds of her dress and began sprinkling out the breadcrumbs for the birds; they swooped down and began eagerly pecking the ground. Beast guessed they were hungry after all.

Lovely Belle looked up as he moved to her side, "hold out your hands," she whispered. Beast gave her a confused smile, but duly held out his paws and the young woman poured some of the breadcrumbs into his cupped paws.

The Prince supposed he was expected to feed the birds. With a wide smile Beast moved to squat down and offer the food to the little birds that were hovering at their feet, the birds cocked their little black eyes up at him and he blinked, eying them off nervously he lunged out with his paws and they flew off, landing a few feet away.

Beast furrowed his brow with a determined expression. He was going to impress Belle and these little birds would co-operate...well they were hungry, weren't they?

Waddling after them, Beast offered another smile and thrust out his cupped paws again, but the birds again jumped back in fright and he frowned. _This isn't working out well_. He heard soft footsteps and Belle was at his side, she smiled comfortingly and knelt down beside him, placing her hand on his shoulder and reaching over, the young mademoiselle pulled down Beast's arms.

Opening up his cupped paws slightly, Belle reached down and sprinkled some of the breadcrumbs in the direction of the little birds.

A little blue tit had jumped forward on his tiny claws and pecked at the food on the ground, before cocking his little black eye in the direction of the pile of breadcrumbs in Beast's grasp and hopping onto them, pecking away at the breadcrumbs merrily.

Beast's mouth dropped open in delighted surprise, the little bird trusted him! He lifted up his paws and cupped them together slightly closer, he looked up at Belle with a smile and the young woman pulled back and rested her hands on her knees, her brown eyes twinkling at him with kindness and Beast sighed.

_She looked kindly at me, and she didn't shudder at touching my paw! _ He thought in wonder as Belle's right hand rested atop of his arm as she got to her feet, a little red bird landing on her outstretched left hand.

The young woman went walking away with the little bird resting on her fingers and Beast looked away. _No, it can't be...but then... _he blinked his blue eyes as Belle looked back at him when the red bird had flown away once more; her brown eyes resting on him with a strange expression in them.

_Was it...was something there? Belle's never looked at me that way before...could she be feeling something too?_

Belle rested her hand on the trunk of a nearby oak tree and gave him a worrying glance before darting behind the tree, Beast blinked a couple of times, then he heard chirping, lots and lots of chirping. Looking around the Prince saw what must be nearly all the little birds in the garden flocking around him, and they landed all over his furry frame; the majority in his paws vying for the breadcrumbs.

Beast looked around and to the side of him in surprise, then all of a sudden the birds flew off and he looked over at where he could see Belle, beside the tree holding something. He gave her a beaming smile then all of a sudden he felt a cold, wet thud in the middle of his face.

The Prince blinked his eyes as the wet substance, a pile of snow, dripped off his face; the Beast looked aside at the culprit.

The young woman was giggling at him and Beast smirked at her laughter. _Ah ha! Two can play at that game!_ He reached down with both paws and started to pile the snow into a huge snowball, he raised it above his head and aimed it at the petite Belle. But before he could hurl it in her direction, yet another snowball came flying from her direction and landed splat on his face yet again. Beast landed with a thud on the ground, firmly on his behind, and his huge snowball went crashing down on top of his head.

Shaking off the snow, Beast jumped to his feet and revelled in the sound of Belle's laughter as he mockingly chased after her, she disappeared behind the tree-trunk and Beast peered around the other side, before hearing her voice.

"Look out behind you!"

Making the mistake of looking in her direction, Beast again felt a snowball land on him and he stomped his foot.

"Hey, that's not fair, come back here!" He called out as Belle jumped away from the tree and rushed across the snow giggling.

Beast trailed after the young woman with a wide smile, he'd never played games like this before. Despite his mother encouraging him to join in games with the servants children, Beast had always tried to act like a refined miniature of his dignified father.

But watching Belle rush away from him with her hair streaming out behind her and a flush on her lovely features, sent a sensation of thrill and abandonment of such silly snobbery. Beast would always carry the memory of the twinkle in Belle's eyes as she every so often looked over her shoulder at him teasingly, her wool lined booties making little indentation in the snow as she ran.

Perhaps if he'd been paying more attention to where his heavy paws were making much bigger indentations in the snow, Beast might have seen the small branch Belle had avoid, and not gone flying through the air land a few feet behind Belle.

"Yaaah—oof!" The Prince yelled out in surprise as he landed on the powdery snow with a soft thump.

Shaking off the wet crumbling ice, Beast tried to hold back a smile as Belle laughingly made her way back to him and knelt down beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

The young woman's voice still held concern and Beast nodded with a raised brow in her direction. "Nothing bruised, only my pride," he actually made an attempt of humour. Embarrassed, Beast thumped his head back down onto the snowy ground as Belle held her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh at the expression on the furry features of her captor.

Belle then looked down at him quintessentially with her light-brown gaze; her hand still resting on his shoulder and that desirable flush still gracing her cheeks.

_God_, Beast thought with a pang of longing. _If only she knew how much I wish I could pull her close and kiss those lips, kiss every part of her..._

"Well," Belle's teasing voice interrupted Beast's thoughts. "Luckily pride is something that is easily bruised and soon healed, here," she got to her feet and offered him her delicate hand. Lifting up his torso Beast snorted and smiled a little as he engulfed her tiny hand in his massive paw and jumped to his feet.

As he brushed off the snow from his broad shoulders, Beast watched Belle turned her gaze to the stables, she glanced up at him with a small smile. "Would you like to meet Philippe?"

Beast nodded his head as he clasped his hands behind his back, "yes that sounds very nice," he said awkwardly. Belle grabbed his arm and pulled him in the direction of the stables, the enchanted Prince tried to keep a silly grin off his face as they walked up the well-worn path, and he pushed open the wooden gate with his free hand.

Belle rushed forward to a large stall, where her flaxen maned, chestnut Breton had his large head over the stall-door he was enclosed in. The gentle creature let out a happy whickering to see his mistress. Belle engulfed his muzzle with her slender armed embrace, and stroked her horse lovingly, speaking softly to him.

Giving Belle a moment with her animal, Beast looked into the other stalls to see the saddle-rack his father's stallion had been turned into, peering over the top of his stall at his late-owner's son.

Bacchus let out a snort and sniffed Beast's outstretched hand. Recognising his scent, the Friesian let Beast pat him; and, (lost in memory about how much time he'd spent in the stable after his family's death,) Beast didn't hear Belle side up next him, looking at the black saddle-rack with a confused expression.

"Who is this?" She was used to the enchanted objects by now, but apart from Sultan and the kitchen cat Coussin (turned into an orange cushion,) hadn't met any other animals.

Beast glanced down at her in surprise, "oh...this is Bacchus, he was my father's favourite ho—he was my father's," he corrected. If Beast didn't know better, he could have sworn Bacchus gave him a derisive glare despite having no visible eyes.

Belle tentatively reached up to the large rack and offered her hand, the fiery stallion had lost none of his friendly nature and sniffed her hand gently, blowing on it a couple of times before nodding his head.

She laughed and the laughter attracted several other racks, who had been horses, to peer out of their stall; and quite a few of the grooms turned pitchforks and shovels came out of hiding to watch, with blinking surprise, at their Prince who joined in the young woman's gaiety.

Beast was distracted by a soft whinny from the stall next door, and looked down over the stall at the grey mounting stool leaning against her stall door. "Diamant," he whispered softly.

The highly strung creature had only had a handful of visits since her master had been turned into a Beast, so she still knew him and stomped her delicate stool feet with dismay. Belle followed Beast to the stall and looked down at the rather large mounting stool, the horse snorted at Belle and turned her back; Beast had to hide a laugh as the young woman looked shocked.

Then he quickly remembered that Belle loved horses and it really wasn't that funny.

"Pay no attention to Diamant, Belle, she's always been snooty around strangers. That might be why you haven't seen her or the others before, this one likes to spread rumours," Beast found himself teasing. The horse appeared to note the teasing in her master's voice and half-turned to whinny at him as Belle laughed.

"Oh well, then we will have to become friends," Belle replied mildly, offering her hand to the flighty creature, who backed further into her stall and snorted again. "She is very jealous, is she yours?" She cocked her head to the side as Beast shook his head.

"She was my sister's, but she gave Diamant to me because she said our tempers were alike, we understand each other," Beast mentioned as the memory of the full conversation with his sister came back to him.

But Belle didn't question further and throwing a last hopeful glance at the grey mounting stool, she took Beast's paw. "Come, I'll introduce you to Philippe," the mademoiselle lead him to her heavy horse.

The large brown eyes of Philippe blinked uncertainly at him as Beast offered his paw, and the horse sniffed it cautiously.

Leaning forward Beast blew gently into Philippe's nostrils to calm him and stroked his muzzle gently, the horse whickered and stood still, letting the enchanted Prince reach up to stroke the top of his head.

Belle watched the exchange with quiet surprise, "I didn't think...I mean, you're very good with horses."

Beast almost smiled and looked aside at the young woman, "a man I once knew, a Capitaine, he taught me all he knew about horses. He was the best horseman in the land," he patted Philippe's neck and pulled back, Belle folded her arms.

"Did you ever have a horse or pony of your own?"

There was a pause and Beast clasped his hands behind his back, "yes I had a few ponies, and a horse, an Arabian called Tonnerre," he admitted, there was a glint in Belle's eyes as if she had figured out something, but Beast continued talking regardless. "He was a present on my eighth birthday, the same year my sister received Diamant."

"What happened to him?" The young woman had picked up the unsteady tone in Beast's voice; and the Prince sighed heavily and sat down on a bale of hay, picking out one of the straws and fiddling with in his paws.

"I wasn't very kind to him. I thought he was supposed to be devoted to me no matter how I treated him, I never said a kind word to him or gave him any treats. I used to let the grooms take care of his husbandry; Tonnerre grew very unhappy," Beast swallowed. "I opened the stall to lead him out one day, and he escaped into the forest. I never saw him again," he tossed away the straw in frustration.

"I used to go out on my balcony and look for him every night. My sister gave me Diamant for this reason, besides my sister not being able to control her."

Belle tucked her skirts underneath her and sat down beside him, she nodded, "I understand. I had a little canary once that I begged my father for, then I begged him to let me carry him home from the market; I tripped and fell and the cage burst open and he flew away. I cried so much and I prayed to blessed Jesu to send back my little bird," she looked down at her folded hands resting on her lap.

"Then the strangest thing happened, the little bird flew back and sat on top of my head."

Beast actually cracked a smile and Belle nudged him playfully.

"The Lord hears the smallest of our prayers."

Cocking his head and looking down at the sweet young woman beside him, Beast nodded, "yes. I'm starting to believe that he does," he said thoughtfully.

Belle gave him a smile with a little hint of a blush and looked down at her feet. "So Diamant was once a horse, wasn't she? So were Bacchus and the other creatures who act like horses; just like Sultan and Coussin were a dog and cat, weren't they?"

With a worried frown, Beast turned away and looked straight ahead. He couldn't tell her anything, even if she had guessed right. Still, this silence was maddening.

He wanted to tell her everything, but he couldn't be with her like this.

Belle needed a man, and he must measure patience as Mrs Potts told him years ago; the spell could be broken, he mustn't interfere.

But then again she shouldn't be deprived of a little of the truth.

"Yes," the Prince resigned.

Belle cocked her head to the side.

"Were you enchanted as well, Beast?"

Those five simple words coupled with his assumed name shook the Prince deeply. "Your hands are turning blue, we should retire inside. You promised to start reading Hamlet to me," Beast reminded her, Belle looked up at him sharply, then her gaze softened slightly.

"Yes, I did didn't I?" She allowed Beast to help her too her feet and guide her out of the stable, her narrowed brown eyes looking up at him every so often, there was a glint of determination in those eyes that worried Beast a little.

-xxx-

Beast escorted Belle, clutching a green bound book, into the sitting room which a roaring fire was lighting up with a merry glow, he reached over to unlatch her cloak and placed it on a rack. He didn't spare a glance at the bust of his father as a young man above it near the mantle, his attention too preoccupied with the young woman whom had settled down on the fine rug in front of the fire, spreading out her pink gown around her.

Eagerly the Prince sat down beside her, and edged a little closer as Belle pulled the book on her lap and opened it.

"You're going to love this one, have you ever read Shakespeare before?" The mademoiselle queried, Beast shook his head.

"Then we should start with the best. Hamlet is a Prince of Denmark and a very confused young man, it has murder most foul and intrigue and romance and madness and sword fights. You'll love it," Belle assured him, Beast nodded fervently and Belle began to read once again to him.

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**Just a small update, nothing too grand, I know I had another scene from the movie in this chapter and it may seem like we're moving fast, but I'm slowing down and the next chapter will be entirely original.**

**For information on Tonnerre (Thunder) and the other animals in this story I've included a little guide on my profile page if you're interested.**

**Thank-you for reading, review if you're so inclined (I do accept anonymous reviews,) and any issues, spelling mistakes, questions ask away and I hope you continue to read this story.**


	8. 1791 x Deux cœurs étrangers

**Thank-you to all my readers and reviewers. This chapter has been a long time coming so I'll just let you get straight into it.**

**Enjoy.**

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**Chapter 8: Deux cœurs étrangers**

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**T**hree days before Christmas, Beast was engaging in a task most enjoyable, guiding Belle around the castle, he wanted to show her where the chamber musicians were currently residing. She had mentioned in passing at breakfast that she had learnt to play the harp from an old blind man who rented the room above her father's house in Paris, but had never owned a harp before.

Excitedly Beast knew this was something sure to please Belle again, perhaps charm her towards him ever more so she would fall in love with him the way he was starting to fall for her. In his enthusiasm he started to almost run down the halls and Belle grabbed tighter onto his paw so as not to tumble over the skirts of her blue and golden yellow gown and onto the fine carpet.

"Why do we have to run?" Belle inquired with a laugh at her captor who was slowly turning into a friend, Beast looked down at her with a wide smile and shook his head. "Is it another surprise? An even bigger library this time, perhaps?"

Beast shook his head again as Belle reached up with her free hand to tuck back strands of her hair that had fallen out. "No. Something even better," he assured her.

The bright eyed Beast's childlike exuberance, was contagious for the young woman being guided by the red-cloaked enchanted Prince, and Belle increased her pace as well as they both laughed; one in anticipation, the other in surprise at that this was the same creature that had terrified her and imprisoned her nearly a month ago.

Reaching the room, Beast pushed open the door and pairs of bright eyes greeted the couple in the semi-darkness.

"Bonjour your highness, bonjour Mademoiselle Belle." There was a chorus of voices and Beast smiled at Belle before rushing over to the covered curtains and throwing them open, letting the light come streaming into the small chamber.

Revealed at last were the various instruments and other enchanted object players of music, assembled and shinning in a semi-circle, in front of them chairs were laid out and the entire place was spotless; the castle servants had been quite diligent.

"My goodness! Bonjour," Belle greeted the assembled instruments. Beast rushed back over to take her arm and introduce her to some of the instruments and the other enchanted objects.

"This is Michel, my valet," Beast introduced the coat-rack with the violin, who bowed deeply, Belle inclined her head and Beast introduced the next few instruments he knew the names of; the ones he didn't know introduced themselves to Belle. "And this is my compositeur, Maestro de Majestueux," the flute on the composer's stand bowed.

"And this is Monsieur Ficelle de Harpe," Beast introduced the large golden harp to Belle, who's eyes widened as the instrument smiled kindly at her.

"The Master has inquired on his behalf if you would consent to play me. He says you have skill with the harp," the former harp player invited.

Belle looked surprised and smiled up at Beast, who was looking anxiously at her. "If you do not mind yourself Monsieur Ficelle de Harpe, I would be most pleased to do so," she agreed and walked over to sit down on the stool beside the instrument. Beast sat down on one of the elaborate chairs in front of the young woman and swished his tail happily.

Pausing for a moment, Belle looked over the assembled musicians and blushed a little, "I really don't know what to play," she thought for a moment, then looked over at Maestro de Majestueux. "Do you know _Greensleeves_?"

The Maestro nodded his head, "of course Mademoiselle," he tapped his metal head on the top of the stand and the instruments began softly and Belle gently plucked the strings. Beast began to hum in tune, and Belle looked up in astonishment as she saw the enchanted Prince mouthing words that slowly became soft whispers in English of all languages.

"…_delighting in your company, Greensleeves you_…" Beast trailed off when he saw Belle had stopped plucking the harp and was studying him with a cautious gaze as the rest of the musicians also halted their playing. "Belle? Why did you stop?"

The young woman rested her hands on the top of Ficelle with a raised eyebrow, "I didn't know there were any lyrics for _Greensleeves_. _Do you speak English_?" She changed her language to English, and Beast nodded his head; the memories of other languages had been slowly coming back to him.

"_A little, I used to be almost fluent in it_," he replied in unknowingly perfect English. Belle raised her eyebrows further and he swiftly changed the subject. "Mrs Potts," Beast switched back to French to answer Belle's other question, "taught me the words for Greensleeves long ago."

Belle watched Beast rest his paws on his knees and cocked her head to the side. "Would you sing them for me?" She invoked softly, Beast shook his head and the young woman persisted. "Oh please?"

Beast looked sadly at Belle, "I have a horrible voice."

Shaking her own head, the mademoiselle got up from the stool and took his paws in her hand, "no you don't, I heard you before. You have a lovely voice. Please? It would help my playing," she begged.

Beast sighed deeply and looked down at the beautiful, pleading gaze. _Blessed Lord help me, I can't refuse her anything,_ he thought embarrassedly, nodding in resignment. Belle beamed a wide smile at him and walked back to sit down at her simple wooden stool.

"From the beginning please," Maestro Majestueux instructed the instruments, who were all but staring at their Master. "From the beginning!" The composer barked out, startling the musicians who promptly began to play again.

Belle plucked the strings of the harp patiently, her brown eyes fixed on Beast.

Clearing his throat, the Prince threw away the thought of how much he had avoided singing even Christmas carols and the forced hymns at mass, and began to sing.

"_Alas, my love, you do me wrong,  
To cast me off discourteously.  
For I have loved you well and long,  
Delighting in your company."_

Beast's singing voice was an eloquent baritone and very tone perfect. Belle couldn't take her eyes off of the owner of the beautiful voice coming from the fanged mouth; her fingers travelled over the strings of the harp in familiarity of playing the tune years ago.

"_Greensleeves was all my joy  
Greensleeves was my delight,  
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,  
And who but my Lady Greensleeves."_

The enchanted Prince lifted his downcast eyes to rest on Belle, their gaze meeting and the young woman, with more than a bit of a blush as Beast sang the second verse.

"_Your vows you've broken, like my heart,  
Oh, why did you so enrapture me?  
Now I remain in a world apart  
But my heart remains in captivity._

_Greensleeves was all my joy  
Greensleeves was my delight,  
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,  
And who but my Lady Greensleeves."_

Beast furrowed his brow as he tried to remember the next verses of the song, there might have been more verses, but there was only two more he could remember, and the final verse wasn't one of them.

Belle lifted her gaze back on him as they continued to play, waiting for him to chime back in, sighing deeply the enchanted Prince continued.

"_I have been ready at your hand,  
To grant whatever you would crave,  
I have both wagered life and land,  
Your love and good-will for to have._

Beast went to sing the chorus and he found his voice joined by a very sweet addition, looking up he saw Belle joining in the final chorus.

"_Greensleeves was all my joy  
Greensleeves was my delight,  
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,  
And who but my Lady Greensleeves."_

The musicians played their last and Belle plucked the final strings and let the final notes hang in the air.

Beast rubbed his mouth nervously. "I'm sorry, I don't remember the last verse and I'm sure there were more…"

Belle smiled shyly and got to her feet, "it's alright. You do sing beautifully—"

"So do you," Beast interrupted with a little more exuberance then he intended and dropped his eyes with a blush hidden under his fur cover cheeks.

Belle continued with a wry smile, "thank-you. Perhaps, as I was going to say, Mrs Potts could remind you about the verses," she moved to sit down beside him and took his paw.

"You mustn't always be so sorry for things that you cannot do, what matters is what you _can_ do. What is so good about you, Beast, is that I can see something so pure and kind in your eyes." Belle smiled kindly. "What matters most about a person, truly, is what is inside."

Beast wanted to throw himself into Belle's arms and cry until all his tears were spent, _say you_ _love me Belle_, he thought pleadingly, _marry me_, instead he forced a smile and got to his feet. "I…I'll leave you to take Philippe for his exercise. Thank-you Belle," he moved to leave and Belle reached out for his paw again and squeezed it.

"Please stay, Beast, don't run off with such a sad expression. Tell me, what is troubling you?"

The enchanted Prince hesitated, he wanted to tell her everything, but couldn't. "I…I perhaps we can talk later in the library," Beast couldn't deal with the churning emotions that had flooded him. The expression of pity on Belle's face was too much. It wasn't the same emotion that he was feeling for her and it was tearing him up inside.

All but snatching away his paw, Beast bolted out of the room, all his good will and excitement gone. It was possible she could see in his eyes, (that had never changed even with his transformation,) who he really was, who he could be. But still it was a on a level of pitying him as one pitied an injured animal; there was no rampant desire like he felt for her.

-xxx-

Beast eventually arrived at his chambers and began to pace up and down in front of the enchanted rose, which had slowly started to lose more petals.

"Four more months till my twenty-first year," he muttered as he looked over at the aforementioned rose. "And Christmas eve; the anniversary of the curse, in only two days." Beast let out a small moan and gripped his upper arms in his clenched paws, matching his clenched teeth as his red cloak whipped around in the wind coming from the open balcony doors.

"I keep trying, she's so beautiful, her voice is so soothing…doesn't she know I would do anything for her? She suspects I'm not really a beast, its tormenting me not to tell her the truth, and I can't…I can't let her know…Belle needs to tell me that she loves me. I don't know if I do…I think I do…I can't…I…I do," the truth rang in his ears.

The Prince had vowed never to feel that emotion again; but here now, as the grown man he was under this flesh, the emotion was there, stronger than it had even been for his family.

"I love her."

Beast had dared to say the three words out loud. Only a month, not even, and all of a sudden there it was.

He was in love with Belle.

It wasn't a crush. It wasn't lust. It was love, and the feeling was only growing stronger. Beast looked over at the torn painting of himself as boy, the one poor Queen Marie had so lovingly gifted to him.

Walking to the painting, he reached out and lifted up a piece of the canvas, looking at the harsh cheek bones and full mouth. Beast subconsciously lifted up his left paw to his mouth and traced his fingers over his engorged, fanged mouth and furry cheeks; letting out a shuddering sigh he dropped his hand from the canvas, and stared into the identically blue eyes.

"You and I," Beast addressed the boy in the painting. "We have to part ways. You are a reflection of whom I once was, not whom I could be. I cannot escape my past, but I must not let it dominate my future. I need Belle. When I was you I thought I didn't need anyone anymore." He shook his head with new found wisdom.

"That's not true. We needed Père. We needed Maman and Christine even though they could no longer be with us. We still need Lumière, Mrs Potts, Cogsworth and the rest of the staff. They're our family now we have none; and Belle…we need her. I love her. Do you understand that, Adam?" Beast chastised his younger self.

"When we were young, we thought we'd be married to some Princess or Duchess and that would be the end of it. We'd come to love them, not fall in love of our own account. Well," he folded his arms, mimicking a stern expression his father had often worn.

"We've surely learnt our lesson. And it's not over yet, I swear, by every fibre of my being, that I have changed, Belle is changing us, I love her."

Beast smiled triumphantly, "you will see, Adam. I will make this right, and you Enchantress, you'd better keep your word. It won't be long now before I can hold Belle in my arms and kiss her as I should have been able to do every moment I have been in her company," Beast vowed.

Looking aside it might just have been his imagination but the rose glowed a little brighter and Beast smiled, "you have heard me, Enchantress, so it shall be. If I can't love Belle let the world be done with me," he swore. "She is the only one I want." Beast went out on the balcony and rested his arms on the railing, the snow was starting to fall heavily, but he needed to think for a moment.

_What could I do next for Belle to prove my love?_

-xxx-

Still brooding over what could be done next, (a few hours after the revelation of his love for Belle had dawned on him,) Beast, hands clasped behind his back, made his way over to the library. He was stopped in the hallway leading to the library by Lumière, who bowed quickly and smiled up at his master.

"Bonjour your highness," his maître d' greeted."Did Mademoiselle Belle enjoy her surprise?"

Beast raised his brow. He knew the tone Lumière was using meant that he already knew just how it had gone. "Well. But...oh damn it Lumière, don't play innocent. I can tell you know what happened already. Were you eavesdropping again?" He accused.

The candelabra looked insulted and folded his golden arms."Of course not your highness...well not on you and Mademoiselle Belle. However I overheard the Mademoiselle talking with Mrs Potts, asking if she had taught you the words to that Greensleeves song Mrs Potts used to sing you to sleep with as a child.

"Mrs Potts of course said that she had; and then Mademoiselle Belle asked about other verses, saying that you couldn't remember them...well naturally I came to the conclusion that you had...well..."

"Out with it Lumière," Beast interrupted bluntly, his blue eyes narrowed.

"...well that you had...sung the song to Mademoiselle Belle?" The maître d' added the last part quickly, and shut his eyes as he waited for the blast of words from the enchanted Prince.

Upon hearing no roar, Lumière opened up one eye and saw Beast had his arms folded across his broad chest and wore a serious frown, but there was no glare of anger in his blue eyes.

"I did," Beast admitted slowly. Lumière blinked a couple of times and his master growled low in his throat, "don't look at me like a stunned carp you silly candelabra," he snapped. The maître d' came back to attention when the tone of Beast's voice almost reverted back to the snide manner of his youth.

"I didn't _mean_ to, but she asked and I couldn't refuse, Belle complimented me on my voice...but then after." The Prince-turned-beast rubbed his mouth in frustration. "After we talked I could see pity in her eyes."

"Pity?" Lumière winced, "are you sure? Perhaps it was fondness?"

Beast shook his head morosely, "no. It was the same way she looks at Sultan when he runs head-first into a snow drift and can't get out," he groaned and smacked his forehead. "I know there is only four months left to win her affection and I'm trying, Lumière. I was ready to give up everything, but Belle...she makes me come alive, I can't...I need her."

Lumière sighed and half-smiled as he jumped up onto one of the side-tables to be at a better eye level with his master, "then tell her, declare your love for her," the candelabra insisted, his heart breaking when he saw Beast's unbelievably tortured expression in response to his words.

"I can't, not now, all she feels is pity for me like an injured animal. If I declare my love for her now, she'd only laugh at me or try to placate me with telling me how much she cares for me, but only as a friend; or she might say something worse," Beast shuddered.

The maître d' nodded sympathetically, his eyes crinkling in the corners, "I understand Master. Do not worry, the staff are all trying our best to make Belle feel more relaxed and at home here. In time she will see through this enchantment. Mon dieu, Mademoiselle Belle is such a bookwoman, she knows not to judge things by their covers! Give it a little more time," he said soothingly.

Beast bit his lower lip, "we are running out of time," he commented and shook his head again. "I'm determined Belle is the one, that the Enchantress planned for her to be the only one, I'm sure of it," the distraught enchanted Prince mumbled, walking past his sighing maître d', who lifted his eyes upwards.

"Prince Christophe, we need some help old friend," Lumière whispered to his master's late-father, shaking his head as he hopped after Beast, smiling a little when he noticed how much straighter his master was walking, and that he was clasping his hands behind in the small of his back again.

Oblivious to Lumière's words and appraising, Beast peered around the side of the closed left door through the open right door; from this distance he could see Belle, seated in one of the plush chairs, pulled up to one of the large wooden desks; and in front of her, (in a semi-circle around a beautifully illustrated book,) were all of the children-turned-cups of the castle and Mrs Potts perched nearby.

The Prince blinked. Only ever Chip had he seen hopping about the castle with his mother or with Sultan, and now Belle. The other children had never left the kitchen. They were all identical to Chip except they hadn't the large chip the boy had down his side.

The children turned-tea-cups, were eagerly looking up as Belle read to them; her soft eyes looking down at them every so often and her mouth parting in a smile.

Beast glanced downwards at Lumière, "she's so good with children," he murmured, deep in thought.

The golden candelabra nodded, "oui. Something on your mind, your highness?" Lumière allowed himself and indulgent smile. Beast raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps how the mademoiselle would look with a bébé of her own in her arms?" He chuckled at the obvious alarm that filled his master's eyes and winked. "I think that is the case. Adieu Master, I have to see to the serving staff for this evening."

The enchanted Prince scowled as the candelabra made his exit down the hall, he rubbed the back of his neck grudgingly. "That was _not_ what I was thinking," Beast hissed to himself, in fact the idea had never dawned on him before. _Children_...?

"Oh Beast?"

A sweet voice called out from within the library and Beast nearly fell backwards from having his thoughts disrupted. He looked over at where Belle had half-turned in her chair and was smiling over at him.

"Are you planning on standing in the doorway, or are you going to join us?" She called out in query.

Sheepishly Beast scratched the top of his head and nodded. "I'm coming," he replied, composing himself and walking into the library with his hands clasped behind his back and his shoulders straight. As he drew closer Beast saw the little cups with purple and yellow edging, (minus Chip of course,) start to shiver a little and a couple darted behind Mrs Potts.

Chip merrily hopped to the edge of the table to greet his master with a wide smile, "bonjour Master! Belle was reading to all of us about the First Christmas. It was really sad when Saint Joseph couldn't get a room for the Blessed Virgin in the inn, and then the very nice inn keeper..."

The rest of Chip's merry words were lost when Beast realised what the word meant. "Noël?" He interrupted with a slightly raised voice.

Christmas, like Beast's birthday each year, had been strictly forbidden for celebration in the castle since the curse.

Belle closed the leather bound bible and folded her hands on top of the cover with a determined smile, "yes Noël. Chip mentioned that you haven't celebrated Christmas in a very long time," her brown eyes looked saddened. "Is that true, Beast?"

The Prince pursed his lips, it was obvious by the expression on Belle's face that the holiday was something she enjoyed very much, and being far from her father, her only family, would have a dramatic impact on her emotions at this time. Beast knew he would have to put aside his own feelings of reluctance for Belle, he could do this for her.

"Yes because we have had nothing to celebrate. Now you have arrived here, Belle, I will allow Noël to be celebrated if you wish," Beast murmured his assent.

Mrs Potts and the rest of the tea-cups, minus Chip, blinked in surprise at how easily their Master, (who still sneaked out at night-time sometimes to hunt,) gave his assent for a celebration during an anniversary of something so tragic for him and the rest of the castle.

Chip leapt up into the air, "yippee! A Christmas! Mama did you hear?" He hopped over to his mother, brothers, sisters and fellow servant children, who were still staring up at the Beast.

Mrs Potts composed herself first and nodded, "I did. Are you sure, Master?"

Beast nodded firmly down at his former nanny, "I am. Prepare the castle for Noël as you used to Mrs Potts. Inform the staff that I wish it to outdo itself for Belle—"

Belle put her hand on Beast's arm, "thank-you. But please don't go to so much trouble. A nice simple celebration would please me ever so much more," she interrupted kindly, those twinkling brown eyes held so much kindness Beast would have scoured the earth for every glittering jewel for her. Still, all Belle wanted was a simple celebration?

"I…I don't understand, there must be a grand feast to plan for!"

The young woman folded her arms across her chest, "I have noticed we two are the only beings who can eat in the castle apart from Philippe, and so we should not need such a waste of food; as for decorations, Chip and I will go search for some holly and ivy," Belle said mildly, looking down at the bible.

Beast scowled deeply and snorted, "that is hardly the way to prepare Christmas! It has never been done without a feast, lavish decorations and a midnight mass—!"

Belle lifted her head, "you have a chapel?"

The enchanted Prince stopped mid-rant and closed his mouth. "Yes we do…hasn't anyone showed you it?" He questioned, Belle shook her head and Beast rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn't thought...oh yes every since Belle had showed up here he'd been praying earnestly in the chapel himself; Belle was a humble laywoman and a good Catholic, naturally she'd want to visit a chapel.

"I guess everyone left out that part of the tour," the young woman raised an eyebrow with suspicion. "Is there something in there I'm not meant to see?"

Beast scowled. "No...nothing really. Come," he offered his arm and Belle linked hers around it. "I'll take you to it."

-xxx-

The doors creaked open and Beast stepped aside to let Belle enter the cold chapel, there were a few candles dotted throughout the small place of worship that lit up the otherwise dark room but offered no heat, Belle walked to the holy water cistern and dipped her fingers into it, crossing herself she knelt in homage before rising to her feet and strolling past the ancient pews, her eyes lifted to the ceiling.

Checking to see if Belle was distracted, Beast also dipped his fingers into the holy water and made the sign of the cross, before moving quickly to catch up to the brunette haired woman; who was still staring up at the grand carvings along the beams.

"It is so beautiful in here," she said a little louder than a whisper. "I haven't seen such a beautiful church since Paris."

The prince-turned-beast folded his arms as he watched Belle touch the smooth polished wood of the back of one of the pews. "Did you ever see Notre Dame?" He queried.

Belle shook her ponytailed haired head and glanced curiously up at him, "no. I have never been inside la belle Notre Dame, I've walked near it but I've never been inside. Have you?" She threw out yet another question about his identity and Beast shook his head.

"I do not believe that, you speak as if you have," Belle replied with a smile. "Come, tell me what it is like in there," she motioned to a pew and her imprisoner shook his head again. "Alright."

Wearily Beast watched the young woman walk around a row of pews with a raised brow in his direction as she left, again he knew Belle was not impressed. He wouldn't be either frankly, but what else could he do? The Prince followed a few feet behind as Belle studied the statues, in particular the largest one in the chapel.

"San Martin de Tours," Belle mentioned as she saw Beast's shadow over her own from the candlelight. "Do you know of him?"

Beast nodded his head, his father's favourite saint. "He was a cavalry officer in the Roman army and..." he scratched his head. "I...don't remember anything else," Beast turned his gaze from the handsomely clothed saint's stony features, and turned them instead on his paws.

Belle touched his arm and continued to keep her smiling expression fixed on the huge statue. "San Martin was at the gates of a city called Amiens with his soldiers when he met a beggar dressed in rags. Feeling love and pity for the beggar, San Martin cut his own military cloak in half and shared it with him," Belle explained.

Beast nodded and looked up at the statue as Belle continued to tell the story.

"That night San Martin dreamed of the Lord Christ wearing the half-cloak he had given away, Jesu said to the angels:_ 'Here is Martin, the Roman soldier who is not baptised; he has clad me.' _"

Beast folded his arms, "in sharing what he had with the beggar, San Martin had shared alike with Christ," the words of his father came to him all too late. If only he had remembered that when he had turned away the old beggar woman who had transformed into an Enchantress; just as in San Martin's dream he'd seen his half of cloak on Jesus for sharing it with a lowly beggar. _All too late_...

Belle looked up at Beast with a small smile, "yes. Sharing what we have with those less fortunate is what makes us human and beloved of God," she said, not knowing how painfully those words dug into the Prince-turned-Beast. The young woman glanced aside at the chantry to the left and a soft smile graced her lips. "Who is that man in the stained glass? San Michael?"

The Prince shook his head, "I do not know. I do know they are chapellenies for the dead," Beast mentioned, averting his gaze from the armour clad man staring solemnly out of the painted glass, and kept his eyes on Belle; watching as the mademoiselle stepped closer and studied the stained glass within the alcove.

"Then this was not originally your castle?"

"No." It wasn't an entire lie, Beast's grandmother had been given the castle by her father to live in, but it remained a residence of the King of France. "I came to be here though," Beast added. _Let her think I found it abandoned_, _it will be much easier_.

Belle nodded her head and reached out with her fingers to touch the cool glass thoughtfully. "He's very handsome; I wonder if he was a Duke or a Prince, he looks like a Prince," she said decidedly, her fingertips running over the painted fair hair.

Beast forced a smile on his fanged lips, "and you would know what a Prince or Duke is supposed to look like?" He hadn't meant it as rudely as it came out.

But Belle looked sharply at him, then clasped her hands in front of her.

"Perhaps. I mean, they are only men after all; but unlike a peasant a royal man has a different bearing. He holds his head up and squares his shoulders, unlike any young man that could do likewise, he does so in a way that marks him as having power," Belle bit her lip. "That's silly dreaming nonsense, isn't it?"

With a raised brow in the direction of his father's stained glass portrait, Beast rubbed his mouth, "no, no I would not say that at all; if I said anything I would suggest that you had met a great many nobles," he answered, making the brown haired woman smile as she turned back to the chantry, folding her arms over her chest.

"Only one, and he was just a spoilt little boy who didn't like books, but had the saddest eyes," Belle looked up at Beast with a caution expression. "So very blue and filled with all the troubles of the world," she murmured, lifting up her hand to his face. "Like yours..."

The prince-turned-beast pulled back before the young woman could lay her delicate hand on his face, again pity for his monstrous form. "I have none of the worries of a young Prince, Belle; I fear I have to leave you, however," he bowed quickly and turned on his heel.

It was becoming further frustrating that all Beast could do was run away and not declare any of his feelings to Belle...

_Can she not see I don't want her pity? I want so much more_, Beast bemoaned to himself as he brushed past the many pews._ Perhaps she'll never see me as anything but a creature to be pitied. When the curse is final, if she does not love me, will I still keep her imprisoned or set her free...?_

"Wait! Beast, please wait!" Belle's sweet voice called out in earnest and the Prince looked over his right bulky shoulder to see the young woman rushing down the aisle. He stopped and allowed the girl to side up to him and turned to regard her; Belle's large, light brown eyes looking earnestly up at him.

"Beast, this is the second time you've run from me today, and I have the impression it is because of something I have said amiss," Belle folded her hands together and cocked her head quizzically to the side. "Is that so?"

The cursed man paused and bit his lower lip, Beast wasn't quite sure how to answer that question and, to his great relief, the young woman nodded her head.

"It is true. My Papa always taught me to speak my mind, but he also taught me that everyone is entitled to their privacy. I know I'm a prisoner here," Belle began, Beast winced at the sad tone of her voice. "And we have only known each other for a few weeks; I have no right to be as forward as I have been. I'm worried I may have been a little too forward as a matter of fact..."

Beast lifted a paw to silence her, "Belle, I'm sorry if I've been terse with you. I've been alone for many years with only my servants that I've known since childhood for company, even before then I only had close contact with my family; I'm not used to being around anyone my own age who was not my servant," he explained.

"So I have never been open with anyone in a long time, apart from perhaps Lumière, but even then that is always as a master. You are my prisoner Belle, but not my servant."

Belle's eyes widened in understanding and she nodded, "I see. I had noticed the change in you, Beast," she cocked her head to the side. "I feel wrong, calling you Beast...have you always been called that?"

A raised brow from the enchanted Prince and a lowering of his eyes. "I've been that for a very long time; the servants just address me as Master..."

"Or your highness," Belle pointed out wryly, her imprisoner looked at her with sad eyes, she touched his arm. "I promise I will not question why they call you that but...you don't have any other name I can call you?"

The Beast shook his head, "no, not now, I am Beast and nothing more," he murmured, the young woman looked concerned and the cursed Prince felt he had to comfort her_. I'm acting like a spoilt, moping child. I'm a man, despite all appearances_. "Belle, one day...one day I would like to tell you everything," he assured her, placing his right paw over her hand resting on his left.

"Just promise me you can wait, trust me."

Belle's face parted in a smile and she inclined her head, "I...I do trust you, in spite of everything. I think you are a good person," she stood on tip-toe and, to Beast's great shock, kissed the side of his cheek.

"Thank-you for being honest with me," Belle slipped her hand from his arm and brushed past him, rushing down the aisle.

Beast felt stunned and stood in one place with his mouth half-open until the sound of the young woman's footsteps disappeared down the hall outside the chapel. He shook himself out of his stupor and lifted up his paw to the side of his face where he could still feel the warmth of the lips of Belle.

The Prince turned in the direction she had left in, _why_... he blushed furiously, then Beast's large mouth parted in a deliriously happy grin.

_She kissed me_...!

-xxx-

Cogsworth and Lumière looked up and watched as Belle rushed past them down the hall, her pale cheeks tinged with red. They looked at each other in curiosity, then hopped and waddled towards the entrance of the chapel to see if their Master had any explanation for the condition of the young woman, (who had disappeared down the hall as if the hounds of hell were on her heels.)

Lumière reached the doors to the chapel first and hopped through the entrance and down the aisle where the Master was standing slump shouldered and with a stunned expression on his face, his paw resting against his face and his blue eyes wide. Lumière halted and Cogsworth breathlessly caught up to the maître d', and also looked up at Beast.

"Your highness?" The enchanted mantle-clock inquired cautiously.

The Beast kept looking ahead and blinked his eyes a couple of times, 'she...she..."

Lumière leant forward expectantly, expecting the Master to bemoan that he had said something out of hand that had upset Belle, "yes?"

The Prince looked down at his servants and blinked again. "She kissed me," he revealed in a dazed tone.

The candelabra was quick to offer his comfort, "oh I'm sure Belle will forgi—what did you say Master?" Lumière suddenly realised what the Beast had said, his eyes widening. "Did you just say—?"

"Ha ha!" Beast interrupted and picked up his maître d' and grinned directly into the puzzled Lumière's waxy features. "She kissed me," he tossed the surprised candelabra back to the ground and folded his arms. Cogsworth clapped his hands uncertainly as Lumière got back to his base and beamed up at the Prince, who waved his arms about in enthusiasm.

"Belle said she trusted me, then she kissed my cheek."

Lumière whooped excitedly and bestowed two kisses of his own on Cogsworth's disgusted face, "ha ha! That is wonderful news Master! Now if I might suggest, you should—"

Beast knelt down to his maître d's level and interrupted with gusto, "get a wonderful present for her for Noël? I agree...she wouldn't like jewellery," he began to pace up and down, followed in his movements by his dutiful servants. "She doesn't like a lot of sweetmeats, and Belle told me little birds and wild animals should be free and not caged so..." He spun around suddenly and half-frightened Cogsworth and Lumière who both fell over.

"Do you two have an idea?"

Cogsworth raised his metal grasping hand wearily as he got to his feet. "Perhaps the madam might like a hand written card...?"

Lumière nudged his counterpart with a shake of his head, "no, no. Something to encourage the young mademoiselle to spend more time with his highness...ah," his eyes twinkled. "Maybe some ballgowns?"

Beast rubbed his hands together nervously, "ballgowns?" He mumbled. _Ballgowns lead to balls and balls lead to_..._dancing? Of course stupid Lumière would bring up dancing_..._but then again_, _Belle would probably like to dance_, he'd seen her twirl about, and she was so graceful.

"I suppose so. Yes, I want her to look like a Princess though, like Queen Marie but less elaborate; like Christine used to dress, but no silly wigs," Beast commanded sternly.

Lumière nodded his head."Of course Master. I shall visit the tailor and Madame de la Grande. I'll see to it that you are shown the final choices," the candelabra maître d' bowed and hopped away quickly with a wide grin on his face.

Cogsworth looked up at the Prince with a sly grin. "If I may say so, your highness, I do believe that by Christmas day we might be free of this curse."

Beast looked sharply down at his majordome, "I don't know. Go find something to do, I need to think," he dismissed.

The mantle-clock bowed deeply and scampered away, but even the clipped tone of his Master's voice didn't wipe the smile off his face.

Like Lumière, Cogsworth could see the marked difference in his highnesses demeanour. There was still the surly, stubborn boy-turned-beast lingering, but that boy was slowly being replaced by an even tempered, rational man thanks to Belle's gentle influence.

Cogsworth only hoped that this strange situation would work itself out, and that things would not go back to how they were before the curse; that they would transcend that gloomy period and manifest instead into the bright, magnificent court Gascogne had been in the early days of Prince Christophe and Princess Aurélie's reign, when Cogsworth had first arrived at the château thirty years ago.

The arrival of the children the Englishman remembered with great fondness, the loss of the two little twins he felt deeply. After their death a spark had gone from Christophe's eyes, and he worked tirelessly; shutting himself away from his family and leaving on endless trips to Paris.

Aurélie had accepted this mildly. She was happy with her children, and both her and Christine spoilt Adam incorrigibly. The boy, having no steady influence of his absent father, had run wild and bathed in the lavish attention bestowed upon him by all of the staff, except for Lumière and Mrs Potts.

Cogsworth had observed these event rarely, as he had mostly accompanied Christophe to Paris; but it seemed Adam would only really listen to Mrs Potts stern lectures, and Lumière was consistently relied upon by the Princesses of Gascogne to remove the boy from any immediate danger he'd gotten into. (Like climbing high up in the branches of a gnarled tree in the gardens and not being able to climb back down.)

Capitaine Amable had often stood a staunch defender of young Adam. He and Christine spent the most time with the boy; and when all the other staff, and even his own mother and sister, failed to calm the boy down, Amable would step forward with his usual gallant demeanour and easily intervene.

Adam had adored Edgard, idolising him even more then his distant father. Losing him soon after losing his family had hardened the boy even further, they should have seen this coming. Even if the Enchantress had not come, Prince Adam still would have grow violent and wild into adulthood, stubborn and snobbish towards all below him; instead of kind and benevolent to his people.

And who knows, this business of revolution could have wrought great tragedy. Perhaps the Enchantress had had more than one intention when she placed the curse.

**Next chapter will be up sooner than this one. Hopefully RL keeps itself occupied some of the time so I can add some more scribbles to the next chapter.**

**Thank-you for reading and please review if you are so inclined.**

**(The chamber orchestra, by the way, was afraid to assemble to play music for Beast, but Michel assembled them once they were convinced Beast wouldn't hurt them.)**


	9. 1791 x Quay tout a changé

**Thank-you all so much for the reviews. (To my annoymous reviewer, _Mew_, we share a birthday! Yay for us, [probably more for you as the dreaded 25 is looming before me in a few weeks] so that's why I gave Belle our birthdate as she is a Scorpio too.)**

**I know this has been a long time coming, but I promise it has been worth the wait. An early Christmas gift for everyone, please enjoy.**

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**Chapter****Nine**: Quay tout a changé...

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**B**east was bored.

Scratch that.

He was _beyond_ mere boredom, and was instead heading into greater emotions, such as something akin to bordering on anger.

_Annoyance._

Yes, that was the right emotion. Annoyance.

Annoyance to the point of passing out; and Beast didn't know how much longer he could just twitch his paws and eye off his prattling servants before getting up and leaving. Or throwing one of them out the window.

_Either or Either as the Englsh say_.

Perhaps the enchanted Prince's emotions were justified in the eyes of any man who hadn't the slightest bit of interest, or inclination, towards fabrics, (or any feminine lines that didn't actually include a visual inspection of the curves of the actual female body.)

To put it in plainer terms, Beast had grown tired the pass two days of being shown fabric after fabric, and pattern after pattern, for the gowns for Belle's Christmas gift; in the continuing efforts of the castle tailors, Madame de la Grande and the ever cheerful Lumière.

Now, sitting in this dim room to find appropriate final choices, (the day before Noël,) Beast was shivering in the late afternoon chill, perched upon a simple, carved chair in the corner of the tailor's quarters.

After yet another comparison between hand-stitched, white lace for the sleeves of the ballgown, or fine chiffon, (which led to a further discussion of what shade of yellow chiffon should be used,) the Prince finally reached his breaking point and got to his feet.

"Look, I am not a tailor, or a fop, and you all know very well Belle is a simple girl. I don't think she'd like anything to overdone; and I don't want to see her in anything ridiculous either!" He pointed at two, (of the five,) half assembled gowns. "That red one with white fur, and the yellow one _without_any lace; make them simple, make them nice. Have them ready for tomorrow. I'm done."

Beast whipped his cloak around behind him and stalked out of the room (before his shocked servants could say a word,) resorting to mumbling to himself. "You would _think_ I was a glorified seamstress instead of the Master of this castle..."

"How are the dresses for Miss Belle's gift coming along, Master?" A warm, motherly voice interrupted the Prince's mumblings and Beast glanced down to see Mrs Potts looking back up at him curiously.

"Just fine." Beast replied through his teeth, then softened his tone. "Has Belle returned with Chip and Cogsworth yet?"

Belle had requested to go out to the grounds to pick some holly and ivy to help decorate the castle. Beast, grateful for the distraction so he could prepare the young woman's present, had allowed this. Provided she took Cogsworth with her and Chip begged to accompany them; Mrs Potts giving permission for her youngest son to do so.

A look of concern passed over the features of the head maid turned teapot. "No they haven't. And it's becoming quite dark out there," Mrs Potts glanced over at one of the long windows in the hall. Beast also glanced to the side and noticed that not only was the grey sky darkening, but heavy black clouds were gathering, signalling a snow storm was on its way.

"They should have been back by now. I told Belle to not leave the grounds and Cogsworth would never disobey my orders at least, he would have come back here promptly," the enchanted Prince shook his head. "Something must have happened to them, I'll find them," Beast looked around. "Where's a lantern?"

"There should be some lanterns in the stables," Mrs Potts nodded in the direction of the stables. "Sir, I wish you would take someone with you, take Lumière—" she tried to interject before her Master cut her off with a wave of his paw.

"I won't risk him, my fur will protect me against this cold," Beast refused, raising his brow. "I'm not a child, Mrs Potts, and certainly strong enough to take down a bull. I just hope the wolves find this weather too cold to venture out in," he pulled his cloak about himself. "I'll be back soon. Stoke the fires and boil something in case...for Belle."

Mrs Potts nodded and watched worriedly as Beast rushed past and headed for the stables, "Please God, let my baby, Cogsworth and dearest Belle be safe," she whispered, her blue eyes glassy with tears, which she quickly sniffed away. _I mustn't cry, I have to do something practical. Master Adam will find them._ She assured herself, hopping away from the window.

-xxx-

Beast walked out of the stables with the lit lantern in his right paw. The snow hadn't started to fall yet, so there was still a good chance of finding Belle's tracks at least; and maybe even the much smaller, square tracks from Cogsworth.

He followed down the snow covered path, knowing his grounds like the back of his hand(—_paw,rather_. Beast thought ironically,) meant it was easy even as it grew darker to navigate Belle's possible trajectory.

Beast sighed in relief when he located the first set of foot-prints, Belle's delicate footsteps had left minimal shifts in the snow, but they lead just outside of the castle grounds. He put his left paw over his eyes like a visor and saw that the tracks reached the eastern gate...and went beyond the open, sculpted iron gates, which swung to-and-fro in the ever increasing winds.

Under other circumstances, Beast would have been furious that Belle had disobeyed him. But the worry over what could happen to Belle out there over took that anger. Besides, it would have something to do with Chip as well, the boy was always trying to venture outside of the grounds.

Beast growled and dashed over to the gate, looking down at the tracks in the snow, he saw they led into the _ForêtNoire_ and he rushed headlong in that direction, pushing away the swinging gate and running as fast as he could. After entering the forest, after a few miles, it began to snow and the enchanted prince luckily discovered before they were completely covered, that the tracks didn't go deep into the forest, rather they took a turn and were heading back towards…

The Prince paused, his cloak whipping about in the heavy winds. Would they seek shelter in the mausoleum?

Beast nodded his head, it made sense. Something deep down was telling him to head in the direction, via the short-cut he used to take as a boy to visit his father. Cogsworth had a brain somewhere in that wooden head of his and if something had happened or they were lost…

But the mausoleum would offer little _but_shelter from the falling snow. It would be freezing cold and Belle could have already…

"No." Beast hissed between his teeth as he took off in the familiar direction of the Gascogne royal mausoleum. _Not my Belle_...

The Prince pushed through the hovelling winds and lifted up his right arm to shield his face, making his way through the storm with grim determination. _I will find her.I will_, _I will_… the words chanted in his head like a prayer as Beast stumbled into a snow drift and struggled his mighty limbs out of the powdery, wet snow and pressed on.

Finally he arrived at the familiar gate with the Gascogne family crest. Beast pushed it open and found it stiff and rusty from ten years, he was just able to squeeze past it and hurried up the deep snow covered path to the stairs of the mausoleum. The door was open and he could hear talking.

"_Please Belle, wake up!"_

It sounded like Chip and Beast burst into the dank mausoleum, rushing in towards the middle where a huddled figure was being guarded by Sultan, who barked enthusiastically at the sight of his Master and rushed to Beast, who darted around the dog-turned-footstool to fall at the feet of Belle, placing down the lantern.

"Master!" Chip and Cogsworth said together.

Beast ignored them and whipped over his cloak, placing it around Belle, who looked blue and pale. "What have you done?" He yelled at his servants after a moment, stroking Belle's wet hair with his paw and checking her pulse. She was alive…but her pulse was weak.

Chip shivered and huddled next to Cogsworth, "Footstool ran across the river and Belle rushed to grab him, but she fell in the water when she did." The tea-cup admitted.

"I think the mademoiselle twisted her ankle as well, sire, she was limping when she emerged," Cogsworth added softly.

Beast snarled and bent down to scoop Belle up in his arms, she hung loosely and he adjusted his grip, "Come, quickly then," he looked down at his small servants. "You'll have to sit on my shoulders and hold on. Sultan can follow well enough," Beast was loath to mention the name of the creature that had done this to his Belle.

The Prince bent down and Cogsworth took Chip in his grasp and hopped atop Beast, holding onto his mane tightly as the enchanted Prince got to his feet and ran out of the mausoleum as quickly as he dared, clutching Belle tightly to his furry chest.

-xxx-

The fire in Belle's room was being stoked by a concerned Lumière and Michel, while the castle doctors were gathered around Belle's bed.

Beast refused to leave his position on the pale girl's right; he had only left for a brief moment when Madame de la Grande and her dressing staff had stripped the unconscious Belle of her clothing and place her in a simple nightgown; calling back in their Master to lift Belle onto the bed and under the covers.

As he laid her down, Belle's hazy brown eyes snapped open and she seemed to be looking past him. _"Papa?...Papa?_" She whispered hoarsely.

"_Shh,Belle,"_ Beast had tried to calm her down, but the girl struggled as he pulled over the sheets and blankets. It was important to get her warm and comfortable before the doctors could look her over. Belle coughed and sighed deeply as her head fell against the pillow.

"_Oh Papa, I was dreaming that you were a prisoner in a castle and I took your castle was ruled by a Beast…who isn't really a monster. I think he's enchanted like the rest of the castle,"_ Belle murmured, her head turning to the side and Beast frowned in pain. "_I think he's really a…oh he's been very kind to me, Papa…"_

Beast, hunched over in the chair he occupied, watched Belle's pale face, (framed by her unbound hair,) alit by both the firelight and the candles on the bedside table. The way the light played across her almost statue-like features, was almost a cruel mimicry of the dreams he'd been having of her coming to him in his room.

The head doctor, (turned into a black leather medic bag,) was instructing his assistants-turned-instruments; as they finished binding Belle's ankle, (which luckily was not broken and only sprained,) and he finally lifted himself up from his position of listening to Belle's chest.

"Your highness," Doctor Pierre Guérir began gently, before Beast turned his head aside to face the doctor and interrupted.

"It's not pneumonia, is it?" The enchanted prince whispered his worse fear. His twin sisters had died from their smallpox after contracting pneumonia; and his Grandfather had also died from the deadly virus.

Beast still remembered being brought into his Grandfather's room near the end of Prince Vincent's life. His Grandfather's slender, pale form had swollen up to at least three times what was normal...the current Prince of Gascogne felt faint at the idea of having to watch Belle suffer that same fate.

Doctor Guérir shook himself in an imitation of shaking one's head, his mouth set in a grim line under his grey moustache. "No, your highness. You reached her just in time. However, her fever is very high; and I recommend the mademoiselle to bed rest for the next two months at least, _if_ her fever breaks. Otherwise," Dr Guérir looked grave.

"If she does not awaken in five days, send for the priest, your highness. She will need many prayers."

Beast looked down at Belle. He'd come so close to losing her, and was still close to doing so. The Prince reached out with his paw hesitantly to brush away a strand of hair from the young woman's forehead; but, upon seeing the shadow of his paw reflecting upon Belle's still features, Beast withdrew his hand and settled for nodding his head solemnly at Dr Guérir.

-xxx-

The entire castle was hauntingly silent that Christmas morn, (as it had been for the past ten years,) and just as quiet the following three days. Only the distant chants of prayers in Latin, (for the sick,) could be heard echoing from the chapel in the southern part of the _Châteaud'démons._

Beast was slumped over in the large, elaborate pinkish-red upholstered boudoir chair, in what had been his older sister's rooms; and were now the guest quarters of a beautiful peasant girl, with the well adorned name of Belle.

For the last four days, the enchanted prince had sat in that aforementioned chair, (only leaving for the briefest of moments to eat or relieve himself,) with his ever-blue eyed gaze firmly on the sleeping young woman in the bed opposite his perch. Every simple murmur from the lips of the feverish woman, or movement of her form, had weighed upon Beast's already tortured nerves; and he thought at any moment if Belle's life slipped from this world, he would not be long for it either.

Just when the pale dawn light had started to filter from the stained glass windows of the bedroom, the exhaustion from the days caught up with the enchanted prince, and he'd drifted off into restless dreams. Dreaming of the Gascogne family crypt, but with Belle's voice crying out to him, at the same time as his father's.

Shaken awake from one of these unnerving nightmares on the fourth day of Belle's illness, Beast's eyes snapped open suddenly and he smiled in relief when the first this he saw just happened to be the most wonderful, glorious sight in the world he could have ever imagined at that moment in time.

Belle had lifted herself into a seated position amongst the pillows on the bed, and was staring at him with a quizzical expression of both sweetness and surprise. An embroidered blue shawl was wrapped around her shoulders, and her loose hair had been combed neatly, resting just below her shoulders and strands of it drifting to her shoulders in soft, brown waves.

"Good-morning Beast."

The enchanted prince felt a relieved smile grace across his features at the sound of that salutation, a little raspy, but full of the sweet nodes of the kind young woman he was falling in love with.

"A very good morning, Belle," Beast reached out with his paw and Belle gave him her pale left hand to grasp. "I thought—we thought, we might lose you,"

Belle sighed as she smiled. "I made a promise to stay, Beast. I'm much better now," she looked around, "I would be even more pleased it I had a book or two to read...do you think you could bring me some from the library? I would have asked Mrs Potts, but she left with the Doctor, talking about what sort of food I should eat to regain my strength." She said quickly, before coughing hard into a handkerchief.

Beast nodded his head and rose up on his feet, a little a taken back by the assertiveness in Belle's manner, "All right. What do you wish me to bring you?" He tried to keep the concern, at the sound of Belle's raspy cough, out of his voice.

The mademoiselle straightened her shoulders a little. "I think I would like to read something a little more relaxing. CharlesPerrault's _Histoires ou Contes duTemps passé_ if you can find it, please," Belle requested with a small smile, a little more softness entering her voice and conduct. "I think I should like to read _La Belle aubois dormant_. The Princess slept for a hundred years, and I feel I've slept just as long!"

Beast laughed at the small joke. "You haven't been asleep that long Belle," he reassured her, taking her free hand in his paw again. "Only a few days."

Belle blinked her eyes, suddenly looking sad and Beast realised this was why she had been so flippant before. "But I did sleep through Noël," she whispered. "I promised Chip a real Christmas and..." she paused and looked up at Beast, "...oh I hope you didn't punish Sultan or Chip for what happened. It was an accident, Beast, truly I—"

"Sultan has been scolded," Beast interrupted firmly, sitting back down on the chair beside Belle's bed. "But Chip...I won't punish Chip. I...I could never punish him. And I asked Mrs Potts not to do so either."

The beautiful young woman looked curious. "Beast. I've been meaning to ask, about the crack on the side of Chip," Belle caught the pained look in Beast's very blue eyes. "What happened to him?"

"He got that crack in his side saving my life," the enchanted Prince admitted gravely, studying the pale fingers of Belle, still in his grasp. "I was out hunting in the _ForteNoire_ last year. It was raining heavily. I...don't remember what happened to cause it, but perhaps a sudden stop. Regardless, I slipped and fell half-way down a cliff. I was unconscious for the longest time."

Beast rubbed the back of his neck, then folded his paws together, resting them between his knees. "When I came too, I was in my rooms in the West Wing amongst the servants. I flew into a foul mood and I grumped I wasn't even fit to be a...well it doesn't matter," he quickly caught himself with a sigh.

"I swiped out with my paw and sent Chip, who was nearby, flying up into the air. He cried out that he'd saved my life and I caught him quickly in my paws...it was then I saw the mark on Chip's side and...I didn't know if I could ever forgive myself for being at fault."

Belle reached out with her hand. "Oh Beast. Chip doesn't hold a grudge against you, so you shouldn't blame yourself." She soothed gently, before raising her handkerchief back to her lips and coughing heavily into it.

The enchanted Prince almost smiled, then looked very gravely down at his course, fur covered paws, _Belle, you don't know why I feel so wretched about that crack. What if the spell is broken...then what will that mark do to little Chip?He might be missing a limb, or worse, he could have a fractured skull or..._

"Beast?" Belle's soft voice interrupted the abject thoughts of the Prince of Gascogne, who looked back up. "Are you all right? Is something else troubling you?"

"No," Beast quickly replied, jumping up to his feet and walking across to the boudoir door. "No, I'll be on my way," he opened up the door, and stopped in the doorway. The cursed prince turned and looked over his hulking left shoulder and gave Belle a small smile, revelling in her bright, brown eyes, set in her otherwise muted, pale features. "_Histoires ou Contes du Temps passé_?"

Belle nodded, adjusting her shawl, "_Histoires ou Contes duTemps passé._" She affirmed with her own smile in return. "Hurry back."

Beast nodded, almost bumping into the side of the door in his haste to do just as Belle bid. A wide smile on his face as he rushed down the hall, stopping only to startle Lumière and Babette, who were smooching on a side table in front of a gilded mirror. "Lumière! Belle has awakened. Bring her gowns to her room and wait outside. I want it to be a surprise," he ordered,

The candelabra had fallen over, (losing his embrace of Babette,) and looked, upside-down, up at his impatient master. "Oui, your highness," the maître d' replied, offering a small salute with his right candle-stick hand.

Beast nodded and continued on his bolt to the library, forcing himself to do so on his back legs. He knew he had to get out of the habit of moving around on four paws; that way, Belle could start seeing him as almost human, at least if only in his movements.

Coming to an erupt stop outside the huge, double doors of the main entrance of the library, Beast pushed open the right door and stepped into the library. The fire was stoked and there was soft, muted light shining in through the open windows. Heavy snow was still drifting down and had lined the windows with mounds of the powdery white ice.

Wondering into the library, Beast headed for the fireplace to warm his paws and furrowed his brow as he realised something. He knew the name of the book Belle wanted, he could remember the tales of Perrault's being read to him in Christine's sweet voice, but...

It had been a long time since he had read anything...could he even remember how words formed together to make sentences? Beast looked around at the massive library and walked over to one of the lower shelves, he picked up a book and attempted to read the embossed, gold coloured words on the green-dyed leather.

"_The Od_—hmm. _The Od-e-yes_..." Beast squinted his ever-blue eyes over the text, screwing up his face in frustration as he tried to decipher the words, running his paws over the embossed text in an effort to make out the shapes. But the words weren't coming out properly. "_The Ode-yessy_. _The Od_—"

"Your highness?" A soft, British Accented voice interrupted the Beast's stumbling annunciation, and the Prince turned his massive head to the side and looked down to see a large book opened up on a stand. The book had kindly, brown eyes and a full, bushy white moustache.

"Professor Oxford?" Beast realised, recognising the voice. He hadn't seen any of his former tutors in ten years, but remembered that Oxford, his English tutor, had been one of the kinder of his teachers. Cambridge, his geography teacher and Harvard, the scientific tutor hadn't been so bad really, despite their attempt to teach him anything.

Master Ennuyeux was the real thorn in his side. Always sprouting verse and poetry, and rarely in the French he was being kept to teach.

Professor Oxford bowed as neatly as he could, "Yes, your highness. Are you looking for a particular book?" The kindly erstwhile castle librarian invoked as Beast put the book he was holding back on the opposing shelf.

"Ah, yes. _Histoires ou Contes du Tempspassé_. Mademoiselle Belle has awakened and would like to read it." The enchanted prince revealed and Oxford nodded, motioning with one of his bookmarking ribbons.

"This way your highness." The Professor-turned-book-and-stand creaked along to the other side of the library and Beast followed his former tutor across and through the rows of bookshelves. "The Mademoiselle Belle is quite the bookwoman. We are all quite taken with her, she is most charming and beautiful. I am beyond mere words at how happy I am to hear of her recovery."

Beast merely nodded, for French not being Oxford's first language he could certainly ramble on in it quite well. "We all are." He said bluntly as the English tutor halted in front of a row and pointed with his ribbon.

"There we are, sir. _Histoires ou Contesdu Temps passé,_a first edition; and here also are the versions in English and German. What do you think would be the mademoiselle's pleasure?" Oxford invoked, Beast shrugged his shoulders. "Oh...well then I believe the French version will be just fine? There it is."

Beast looked down at where the tutor pointed and pulled out the thick, well-worn book. "Thank-you. That will be all," he dismissed glibly, and Oxford bowed, before waddling away in relief, leaving his former pupil to his own devices.

Looking over the lovingly worn book, Beast let out a heavy sigh, thinking that there was rarely a day that went past that his family didn't come to mind. What he wouldn't give to hear the voice of Christine one more time, especially reading one of the fairy-stories his older sister had been so fond of.

-xxx-

Returning to Belle's boudoir, Beast saw that the head servants and tailors had gathered around two wooden dress-forms.

One held the diaphanous, draped golden-yellow ballgown, crafted in luxurious satin and chiffon detailing with a golden broach shaped into balls in the middle of the bodice. While the other dress, to the right, was crafted of the same heavy satin, but it was in deep red; it's bodice was a soft velvet with delicate lace along the collar and front. Little gold rosettes dotted the dress and it was accompanied by a white fur muff and matching white fur headpiece.

Madame de la Grande had a ready supply of gloves in yellow and white, as well as stockings (and all those womanly underthings that Beast felt uncomfortable thinking about in great detail,) but new, golden stain heeled shoes had been made for the ballgown; and new, fur-lined, wooden-soled, red booties had also been made for the red Christmas dress.

Beast would have wrung his paws in nervousness if he hadn't been clutching the heavy book of fairy stories, and the enchanted Prince hoped Belle would like her presents and they would cheer her up. On the way back from the library, he had also thought of something else that could be arranged to bring the kindly, bright spark back to those brown eyes Beast loved so well.

The head servants were gathered in anticipation and the dress-forms, (former assistant dressers,) waddled over to await Beast's word. Clearing his throat, the Prince of Gascogne pulled down the door-handle and entered Belle's room. Madame de la Grande was chatting away to the young woman in the bed, leaning against the bed-post.

"...and the Master was just miserable while you lay there, honey. He looked so...oh!" Madame de la Grande stopped mid sentence, and the huge wardrobe jumped away from Belle and bowed deeply. "Master."

Beast raised an eyebrow at the sheepishly grinning former maid of his sister, before turning to Belle with a wide smile and walked over to her side. "Here we are, _Histoires ou ContesduTemps passé_." He held out the book and Belle eagerly reached out with both hands and pulled the heavy tome onto her blanket covered lap.

"Thank-you Beast," Belle craned her head up to flash that almost-smile at the enchanted prince. "Would you like to sit and I'll read a little out to you?"

The prince had begun to wring his paws, which he had been unable to do earlier, in his nervousness, "Oh...err, maybe in a moment. I have something for you...and it was meant to be for Noël, but then you got hurt and..." Beast averted his eyes and began to pace up and down. "I have a...a..."

"Beast," Belle interjected into the enchanted prince's rambling with gentle laugh as she coughed into her handkerchief and Beast reluctantly turned back around to face the lovely mademoiselle, who cocked her head to the side and smiled encouragingly. "Are you trying to say you have a Noël gift for me?"

Beast rubbed the back of his neck and grinned just as sheepishly as Madame de la Grande had done earlier, "Err...yes something like that." He admitted, before straightening his hulking shoulders and looking towards the entrance of the room. "Bring in Belle's gifts."

The two dress-forms stepped inside and spun into the room in a flourished, silk-like motion, stopping at the end of Belle's four-poster bed to show off the lovely garments they wore. Belle's eyes lit up at the lovely gowns and she held her pale hands to her mouth.

"Oh...oh Beast! Oh they can't be for me," Belle pulled down her hands and gazed almost desperately up at Beast, who had walked back to be at her side. "They're far too elaborate for a simple peasant girl like me." She reached out and the enchanted prince happily took her hands as the worried mademoiselle looked back at her gift.

"They are for you Belle," Beast assured the bemused young woman, patting those tiny hands as Belle turned her gaze away from the gowns and looked back up at the enchanted Prince of Gascogne with a expression of disbelief. "They are for special occasions. The red gown I'm hoping you will be well enough to wear for the celebration we will be having on New Year's Day."

Lumière cleared his throat as he hopped over, manoeuvring around the dress-forms and then tugged on the end of Beast's cloak. "Uh, Master? The celebration on New Year's Day?" He queried, and the enchanted prince leant his head down slightly.

"_That's right_," Beast hissed out of the corner of his mouth, almost with a growl. "_The celebration on New Year'sDay_."

The candelabra got the hint and smiled broadly up at where Belle was now looking at the unusual display between Beast and himself, "Err…oh yes! But of course! The New Year's Day celebrations, we shall certainly make up for missing Noël this year." Lumière lit up his candlesticks. "It shall be a lavish, grand...err..." he noted Beast's raised brow.

"...tasteful, small affair. But there will be much music and entertainment to ring in the new year!"

Belle clapped her hands and let out an excited gasp. "Oh how wonderful. I'm afraid I will not be able to dance or move very well," she mentioned. "The doctor said it could take six weeks until I can start to walk again. How will I ever leave this room?"

Cogsworth waddled over to stand beside Lumière. "Ah ha, that will be no problem my dear. Our furniture is of the moveable kind and your armchair will be your transportation to and from." He explained, motioning to the pink-velvet, plush armchair Beast had been practically living in the past few days and the chair bowed scuttled across to prove Cogsworth's claim.

Belle smiled and nodded her head, "I didn't think of that, oh..." she stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. "...thank-you all so much. Thank-you Beast, I'm afraid I'm feeling a little tired," the mademoiselle excused herself, her voice sounding hoarse.

The servants all bowed, "Of course Mademoiselle Belle," Lumière assured her on behalf of the rest of the staff, adding an extra bow as he hopped away on his golden base out the door. Beast smiled at Belle and moved to follow out his servants, when he heard a small clearing of the throat and he turned to see the object of his affection motioning him back to her with a delicate white hand.

"Beast, please come back," Belle whispered in a little more than an croak, and in a flash the enchanted prince was back at her side. The brunette young woman smiled and squeezed Beast's paw. "I have a gift for you as well, Beast. I've had Michel and two others carry it to your chambers. You were meant to find it on the morning of Noël." She explained, before pulling back and coughing into her handkerchief.

Beast felt his heart flutter a little. "A gift? For me?" As a child he had grown so used to being gifted presents, some of them quite extravagant, that the notion of gifts had never made him feel anything more than indifferent; even towards those his father gave him. But now, after so many years..._adecade_...the simple act of knowing that this girl, (who was all but in name his prisoner,) had been kind enough to think of him moved him very deeply.

Belle smiled softly at the bemused expression on Beast's furry features, and nodded. "Yes, it's in front of the fireplace, underneath the shredded painting of the boy," she admitted slowly, carefully eying the reaction of the hulking enchanted prince. "One of the servants explained to me it might be the only cleared place to put it," Belle quickly explained.

The Beast raised his brow in consternation, but nodded with a smile, "It's all right. I'll depart now, I'm sure after three days I don't smell very pleasant," he said roughly, flushing with embarrassment under his furry cheeks at his blunt manner. Belle almost giggled and squeezed his paw again.

"I don't mind. I'd hate to lose your company, but I want you to see your gift."

His embarrassment, and secret pleasure, at the words from Belle, made the enchanted prince just that little bit bolder then he dared, and Beast lifted Belle's hand and kissed it gently. "Thank-you," Beast breathed out his thanks, lifting up his gaze shyly as he smiled at the picturesque woman he adored before leaving the boudoir, glancing back at her one last time before reluctantly leaving.

-xxx-

Beast made his way across his messy quarters in the West Wing, stepping around the shattered furniture with a frown. He would have to see to it that the servants were allowed to clean, repair and replace the objects in here. But Beast's thoughts on that matter quickly came to a halt when he saw the framed portrait placed just in front of the fireplace where his slashed childhood portrait hung.

It was Belle. Dressed in that lovely emerald green gown that made her hazel eyes sparkle in real life, and the castle artists had done their best to replicate the effect in the oils they'd used on the large canvas. A harp rested on Belle's lap and she was in the position of plucking it while gazing out with a sweet expression.

Noticing the sealed envelope attached to the right corner, Beast reached over with his paw to remove it and used his claw to slice it open, there was a decorated piece of notepaper, and in beautiful calligraphy, was written: _Àla Bête, avec l'amour devotre Lady Greensleeves_ (_To Beast, with love from your Lady Greensleeves.)_

With a happy sigh, Beast looked back down at the portrait and clutched the note to his chest. Every day that hope Belle was starting to see the man within the beast was growin_g. And now with this gift I know she cares for me. It's not pity, but…_ Beast furrowed his brow, …_it's not romantic love, is it? Lumière told me I would feel it…but something is definitely happening. Something new is growing between Belle and I…_

* * *

**I'm so sorry that this took so long. I'm a very bad author to leave you all hanging so long! But I have another early Christmas Present for everyone in my profile link. You will find there a link to deviantart where I have my representation of the portrait Belle has gifted to Beast. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.**


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